


Let Them Say I Walked with Giants

by deluxemycroft



Series: Ouroboros [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alien Culture, Alternate Dimension, Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Asgard, Brainwashing, Captain America Sam Wilson, Cock Warming, Codependency, Consensual Somnophilia, Cultural Differences, Dark Frigga, Dark Thor (Marvel), Deaf Clint Barton, Dehumanization, Depersonalization, Disassociation, Dream Sharing, Engagement, Evil Thor, Helheimr | Hel (Realm), Hydra (Marvel), Infinity Stones, M/M, Mind Control, Non-Sexual Submission, Service Submission, Somnophilia, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Suicide Attempt by Proxy, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, Time Loop, Unreliable Narrator, Warning: Loki (Marvel), consensual torture, loki who doesn't have a reason to be good anymore, mentions of past strangefrost and past stucky, post sokovia accords, repercussions of curses and amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-12-24 08:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 75,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21096437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deluxemycroft/pseuds/deluxemycroft
Summary: Steve gives.Loki gives back.Loki must find out who he is after losing his memory. At the same time, Clint searches for an answer on how to defeat Thanos, and takes the risk of losing himself in the process.





	Let Them Say I Walked with Giants

**Author's Note:**

> hi there folks! welcome to the next installment of my ouroborus verse. warnings are in the tags. this one gets a little dark, so just be ready for that. 
> 
> i worked SO HARD on this fic so i hope that comes across in it. 
> 
> some extra warnings: a lot of clint (in general) and mention of clint/other characters. some nsfw stuff with clint/steve in dreams. mention of past prostitution. loki has been kind of morally grey this entire series and kind of goes into dark grey/bit not good in this fic. 
> 
> italics are telepathy or texting
> 
> single line break is scene/time jump  
double line break can be considered a chapter break
> 
> this is long so i'd suggest taking breaks

> If they ever tell my story, let them say I walked with giants. Men rise and fall like the winter wheat but these names will never die.
> 
> Let them say I lived in the time of Hector, tamer of horses. Let them say I lived in the time of Achilles. —Odysseus, _Troy_

* * *

They’d begun sharing dreams awhile ago. It was a good step-up from reliving their past lives every night, a loss which Clint didn’t actually feel any grief over. They were so twisted up in each other that sharing dreams felt like the reasonable next step. Loki was finally starting to deal with being kidnapped by Killian, given that Clint regularly dreamt about him, and since Loki’s mind was basically Swiss cheese at this point, it was good he had _something_ to focus on. 

He and Loki woke up at the same time, breathing hard, sitting up at the same time. Loki immediately held up his hand and a low light spread out from his fingers, and they both relaxed as the darkness was swept away. It had been so _heavy_ in that room, unable to hear anything, see anything, nothing to feel besides the metal against his skin. They rubbed at their aching wrists.

On Clint’s other side, Steve sat up, rubbing at his eyes, mouth moving. Clint turned his head to watch the man’s mouth move and he leaned over Loki to grab his hearing aids. Loki glared at him but tension in his chest eased at the physical contact, and Clint slid in his aids while leaning into Loki’s side. “You two alright?” Steve asked, voice low and rough. He turned his head and winced at the clock on his nightstand. “It’s not even 2am.”

“Nightmare,” Clint answered for both of them, and the three of them just sat in the quiet and the deep of the night for a few more minutes.

“Want to talk about it?” Steve finally asked, lying back down on his side towards them and pushing his pillow under his head. 

“It hurts,” Loki said, his voice quiet, barely audible over the sound of their breathing. The light quivered in his fingers. Clint curled closer to him and Loki closed his fist, light spilling from between his fingers. “I..._ache_.”

Cautiously, Steve reached a hand out, sliding his palm over Clint’s back.

Clint pushed the memory of Steve telling Loki that he’d be willing to put up with Clint forever if it meant he and Loki were married at Loki, and smiled a bit at the way Loki’s breath caught in his throat. Loki let the light go out as he carefully took Steve’s hand.

Steve smiled. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

On one of the shelves, between two expensive baubles from Vanaheim, laid the wildflowers Steve had given Loki. They were shrouded in thin green seidr and Loki enjoyed running his fingers over the delicate petals.

Clint laid awake for awhile, warm under the weight of Steve’s arm, heart pounding in his chest. Loki had inserted seidr windows into the walls of his rooms that let in stars and moonlight. It made it just light enough that the dark wasn’t suffocating, but that didn’t take away the memories. God, everything hurt. It was only the memories but even the memories were painful.

_Go to sleep,_ Loki murmured into his mind, and seidr slid over his skin, soothing him, removing his hearing aids and dropping them on the side table. Clint sighed. At least Steve and Loki were in the same bed. It’d been his idea, of course, given that Steve would’ve probably volunteered to sleep out on the porch if Loki had even hinted he didn’t want him in the house. Loki’s body and soul and seidr remembered Steve; it was only his mind that didn’t know him. And Clint knew that Loki needed to be around Steve for his soul and seidr to stay calm, and the only thing he’d been able to convince them to do was sleep in the same bed, as long as he was there.

It made Clint feel better too. Steve was reassuring and calming and so steadfast that sometimes Clint felt like he was drowning when Steve wasn’t around. He knew it was Loki bleeding over into him but there wasn’t a way to make it stop.

When he’d first been deafened by Thor, the silence had been oppressive. It had been _awful_. He’d felt on the verge of screaming for days. But now it was a relief. He could shut the world off and just be. 

Sometimes he forgot he was anything other than Loki’s.

Sleep took him slowly and without fanfare. 

When he woke, he was curled against Steve’s chest, strong arms wrapped around his waist. Loki was amused about something in the back of his mind and when Clint peeked an eye open, he saw the god lounging elegantly back against the pillows, cup of coffee in one hand and picking through a floating breakfast plate with the other.

_Why am I cuddling with Steve?_

_He said you octopus-ed onto him during the night._

Clint yawned and blinked a few times and stretched, bringing his arms up over Steve’s shoulders to arch back. He could feel a strange rumble coming from Steve’s chest and those same strong arms slid from around him so he could pull back and sit up. His hearing aids floated over to land in his hands and Clint sent Loki a grateful wave as he slid them in and then reached over to steal Loki’s coffee. Ugh, conjured coffee. Gross. He finished off the cup anyway.

Loki refilled it for him and he sipped at it and then groaned. Hazelnut? Gross. He pushed the cup back at Loki and clambered out of the bed, stretching again in the fake sunlight coming in from the windows. 

“Any plans for today?” he asked the two of them, smirking as Loki pretended not to watch Steve slide out of bed. 

“I’m going for a run,” Steve told them, picking through one of the drawers on the far wall. “Clint, you should come with.” Clint groaned loudly and then slouched into the bathroom, throwing Loki the bird over his shoulder as the god’s amusement slipped through his mind.

After he washed his hands and his face, he went back into the bedroom and got into whatever clothes Loki thought it would be funny for him to run in, and then he followed Steve out of the house, grabbing his bow and his quiver on the way out. They stretched together on the front porch and then took off around the perimeter of the property, Steve staying slow to keep pace with Clint.

Back in the house, Loki wrapped himself in a Vanaheim silk robe and left his rooms to snoop around in the kitchen. It was early and quiet. Loki started the coffee maker and then sat down at the kitchen table, pulling out his phone. Clint’s memories showed him that Steve had gone with him to buy it for him. It was so strange to see his own experiences in Clint’s mind when his own was so foreign to him. When he had awoken in Asgard, he had felt the deep loss of _something,_ but the most important thing to know what that Thor was dead and that he was _free_. It had still felt as if he had lost an integral part of himself, as if he’d left something important in another room but could never find it and there was no other room to go searching for it.

He paged through his Instagram account. There was so much he lost through Thor’s machinations. Thor had spent so much of their lives attempting to destroy him, attempting to wear him down until he was dust. But even now, Loki had risen above him. He had shown himself stronger and more powerful than the great and mighty Thunderer. If he opened his hand, Mjolnir would come into his palm. He was Prince of Asgard. In all of the Nine Realms, only Balder sat higher than he.

Loki summoned his coffee and used seidr to mix in some chocolate, going outside to sit on the porch swing. He watched as Clint and Steve raced across one of the fields, the slight breeze carrying their laughter. He looked back down at his phone. The lock screen was a photo of Steve kissing him on the cheek in front of some kind of museum exhibit. He looked through his photos, his Instagram account, at all of the proof of him and Steve being in love. 

He wanted that. He had spent his entire life _wanting_. There had been so many things that he had _wanted_ and could not have. He had wanted everything he thought he could not have. He remembered convincing himself that he could be happy at Thor’s side. He could’ve been, he thought. Perhaps the Loki of that time loop or dimension had been able to. Perhaps he was stronger now. Perhaps that version or incarnation of Loki had not been given the strength necessary in order to be stronger than Thor. Perhaps he had not been allowed to gain the strength. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

He still did not know Steve.

But he knew Stephen.

“Heimdall,” he called out, voice carrying all the way to Asgard. “Where is the Doctor?”

A raven winged down a minute later, narrowly avoiding being struck down by one of Clint’s arrows. Loki rolled his eyes. _You are aware it is a death sentence to harm an Asgardian raven?_

_This is a bad idea!_

Oh, Clint always said that.

The raven landed on the porch railing and opened its mouth. “He searches for a cure for his damaged hands,” Heimdall’s voice told him. “Soon he goes to Kamar-Taj.”

Loki inclined his head and waved his hand at the raven, which took flight, disappearing quickly into the clouds. He’d seen quite a few of Clint’s memories of his and Steve’s times together. It was peculiar to see someone treating _him_ with such respect and kindness. He was more used to the way Stephen had treated him, as if he was second-best to their interests, as if he was barely someone to be acknowledged. Steve saw him as someone _worthy._

Loki frowned. He did not see how he could have come to accept how Steve treated him when he was so clearly undeserving of it.

_Can you shut up? You’re making me all depressed and Steve keeps asking me what’s wrong and he keeps doing that thing with his eyebrows where I feel like I have to answer him and—_

“Clint,” Loki said out loud, and _pulled._

“God damn it!” Clint yelled as he reappeared on the porch. He stumbled and then caught himself on the porch railing, glaring at Loki. “Jesus, boss, warn a guy.”

Loki ignored that. He looked one last time at the picture of him and Steve in the woods, light playing over his face, the way Steve was looking at him like he’d never seen anyone more beautiful, and handed Clint his phone. Clint frowned at him. “I will be leaving,” Loki said finally. Perhaps he would go to Wakanda. He would have to think about it.“I will consider returning here at night. But I have to…” _Find myself,_ he finished telepathically. He did not know who he was now. He only knew himself when he was with Thor, and then with Stephen, but now...he found Steve attractive, of course, but he could not imagine himself _with_ him in the way he saw in Clint’s memories.

“You shouldn’t do this,” Clint said, sitting next to him on the swing and reaching out to take Loki’s hand. “You said you’d try.”

He struggled. Clint took his coffee before he could break the mug and downed it. “I am weak,” Loki finally whispered, eyes tracking Steve as he did sprints down the fence line. “I cannot be...who he wants.”

“You and Bucky had this exact conversation once, you know,” Clint pointed out. “Steve just wants _you_. I swear. He’s not going to ask you to change. He knew that once you woke up, you’d be different. You lost memories of Steve in _three_ lives, not just one. Just because you’re ancient doesn’t mean he wasn’t a huge part of your life.”

Loki inclined his head. _I feel homesick but I do not know where home is._

_Loki,_ Clint murmured, and they met in the middle, foreheads pressed together, both of Loki’s hands wrapped in Clint’s. Loki shuddered.

The porch steps creaked as Steve walked slowly up them and leaned against the railing after setting Clint's bow and quiver on the porch, crossing his arms. “You two are worryingly codependent,” he said quietly, a small smile in his voice. Clint snorted and pulled away from Loki, giving Steve a small smile. “You good, Loki?”

Loki smoothed his hands over his thighs and took in a deep breath, stopping himself from fidgeting. “Captain, I am...lost.” He glanced up to see Steve make an aborted movement towards him and a bit of smugness curdled in his chest at the way such a powerful man clearly needed him. “I leave tomorrow.”

Steve’s mouth dropped open, and just for a second, loud heartbreak was plain on his face. But then he gathered himself and clenched his jaw and Loki watched, just a bit impressed, as Steve’s eyes hardened and his jaw clenched. “How long will you be?”

Loki pushed to his feet and paced up and down the porch. “Perhaps I go to Wakanda. Is it not ally to Asgard? It is the only advanced civilization upon this realm. We have let Thor distract us from the fight that truly comes: Thanos. Heimdall watches for him, says he comes ever closer, grows ever more powerful.” He paused, and smiled a bit. “We have a distinct advantage.” Steve raised an eyebrow. “We have Clint.”

Clint sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“He has seen thousands of lives. Clint, you’re going to stay here, and you’re going to document every attempt to defeat Thanos, and every victory. I only recall the last time, where Thor killed me upon Jotunheim.” As one, they both touched the spot on their forehead where Mjolnir breached them. “While I am fairly certain we would have been successful, I cannot be sure. So, we must have more information.” Loki looked to Steve. “Will you be assisting our endeavours, Captain?”

“Nat said I need to lay low for awhile, keep the heat off,” Steve sighed, rubbing at his jaw. “I’ll stay and help Clint. Tell Buck and Sam I say hi.” He moved past them and went inside the house, porch door slamming behind him. 

Loki continued pacing, hands clasped behind his back as his mind raced. He felt scattered, as if he was being pulled in many directions. His mind seemed unable to settle and he could feel his seidr straining and spinning.

“You need an anchor,” Clint pointed out mildly, swinging the porch swing. “It might not be a real thing for anyone else, but it’s real for you. Hjalmar soothed it a bit but your soul bond is pulling on you. Same with that fealty bond that Frigga tied to your seidr.” Loki shot him a glare but Clint just shrugged one shoulder. “Steve wouldn’t say anything, you know. He just wants to help.”

“I kneel to no one,” Loki spat, turning on him, eyes ablaze. “I am a Prince of Asgard. I do not lower myself to kneel before a _human_. You believe that of me? I spent 1500 years on my knees and you think I want to be his?”

“I think you think the world of Steve,” Clint said simply, keeping his voice calm, “even if you don’t know it yet. I think that you spent 1500 years and life after life on your knees and you don’t know how to live any other way. You know how you said you don’t know where home is?” He thumbed back at the house. “He’s back there, probably moping about how he can’t be punching people right now or whatever.” Clint sighed. “Boss, look. You have to trust me on this. I know you better than you know yourself right now. You’re going to come up with some weird scheme to try and get him to prove his loyalty to you or whatever and it’s going to backfire. We both know what your soul looks like now, Loki. You’re bound to him. It’s an eventuality. You’re going to be on your knees for him.”

Loki glowered. “But him?” he asked quietly, turning his head to look out over the fields in front of Clint’s house. “Who is he to command me?”

“He’s Steve Rogers,” Clint said, his voice soft and strong. “He’s Captain America. Out of every single being or person you have _ever_ met, in 1500 years, he’s the only one who gave you the strength to stand up to Thor. He’s also strong enough to know that he could stand down and not fight when you needed to face Thor on your own.”

“I had thought I had forgotten him then,” Loki said quietly. “He was not upon Asgard?”

“You asked him to stay on Midgard,” Clint told him. “Your worst fear was Thor hurting him or somehow turning him against you. Loki, he watched Thor hurt you in two lives. He watched Thor _crush_ you. Thor worked with HYDRA, Steve’s biggest enemy, in order to get to you, and Steve still stood down when you asked him to. He doesn’t back down from fights, especially not a fight as big and as important as you going up against Thor. But he did, because you asked.”

“He is worthy,” Loki murmured, and he summoned Mjolnir, the hammer smacking into his palm a moment later. He held up the hammer and looked curiously at it, disgust thinning his mouth. “Was he worthy before I killed my brother?”

“Yes,” Steve said from the window behind Clint. Clint jerked and nearly fell off the swing, swearing under his breath. Loki turned his head to solemnly regard Steve. “After we recovered the Scepter, Tony threw a party, and Clint goaded everyone into trying to lift the hammer.” Loki smirked at that. “It...I felt Mjolnir jump into my hand. I didn’t lift it. I knew what Thor was capable of.”

Loki inclined his head and looked at Mjolnir. “Why did you choose yourself?”

“You’re strong, Loki,” Steve said firmly, and he moved around, coming back through the door out onto the porch. Both Loki and Clint watched as Steve curled his fingers into fists to stop himself from reaching out to Loki. “Stronger than you realize. Thor crushed you into dust, and you remade yourself. The healers told us that the curse would either kill you or it would have to be diverted into the sub-curse that made you forget me in the first place. It was Balder’s idea to choose either me or Clint, as no one else was important enough. That was the curse.” He took in a deep, shuddering breath. “Loki, I couldn’t make you forget him. Once Hjalmar said that you didn’t have a soulmate because of Clint, I knew for sure that I’d made the right choice.”

“We all promised him that you’d love him again,” Clint spoke up. “He knows what Thor did to you. He knows you.”

Loki inclined his head, turning his attention back to Mjolnir. “Very well,” he said, and turned on his heel and disappeared.

Clint rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry,” he grumbled, pushing to his feet and stretching. “He has to run before he figures himself out. I’ll keep an eye on him.” He clapped Steve on the back and moved past him into the house.

Steve took his place on the porch swing and rocked it a bit. He could wait.

* * *

Loki had recalled something from their last life. Thor had claimed to have done far more research than just in the Sanctum. Loki had, at the time, taken it as proof of Thor’s affection for him. He knew better now. He should’ve known better then.

He sat upon the Isle of Silence, looking out over the stars.

It was quiet.

Silent.

He felt as if the more he learned about his life, the less it made sense.

He could not imagine himself in love.

He’d seen himself in Clint’s memories, the way he and Steve looked at one another. He could feel his own emotions in Clint’s memories, could feel the way he’d only been _home_ at Steve’s feet. But he did not feel like the Aesir he saw in those memories. He wondered who he was now, who he was after losing so much of himself.

Loki looked down at his hands, at the blue skin showing through Odin’s spell. He’d been picking at it, distangling it, pulling it apart. The power of it had been fading of late, and he was only helping it along. He could see how it worked now.

Whoever he’d become in these past few years was more powerful, more aware, more sure of himself than he’d ever been before. According to Clint, that was mostly Steve’s doing, Steve giving him the strength to stand up on his own feet. 

He couldn’t trust himself.

The stars glimmered in the distance.

In whatever life, the first one or any of the ones in between, Thor had gone to Omnipotence City. He had spoken to Those Who Sit Above.

Loki would start there. Wakanda could wait. Midgard could wait. They had gone on this long without him. Thanos would set his army upon Asgard first. For all his hatred for the realm that had allowed and even encouraged Thor to be so cruel to him, Asgard was still his home, he still her Prince. Jotun skin or otherwise.

Soundlessly, he stood and turned, eyes landing on his own rune, carved with his own nails onto the lone tree. He remembered being sent here, for whatever imaginary crimes he’d committed against Thor. He remembered screaming and trying to throw himself off the side to his death and finally, finally accepting that he would die there, clawing his rune into the tree. He hadn’t died, of course. Perhaps he should have. 

They’d done him a disservice by causing him to forget Steve. All he could remember was Thor.

He pulled on enough of the glamour to cover his exposed skin and looked at his rune on the tree for one more moment before pulling out the Tesseract and activating it, stepping through to Omnipotence City.

He’d been here before. Loki stowed away the Tesseract and pressed his lips together, looking up at the massive city that loomed overhead. It was a massive thing, with huge buildings that stretched far up into the dark sky, floating over a round, heavily treed disk that was slowly spinning. The entire city was a good ways above a destroyed planet, and there was a huge glowing orb that hovered over the city, and inside that orb, Those Who Sat Above.

_You need me?_ Clint asked. Loki focused inward for a moment. Clint was with his children, ready to leave his family at a moment’s notice if Loki needed him. For a moment, he almost pulled Clint to him, merely because he could. But then he thought better of it. Let him stay home. Let him stay with Steve.

_Keep an eye on the Captain. I will summon you if I have need of you._

_Alright, boss,_ Clnt said easily, and sent him a wave of affection before turning back to his kids.

Loki turned his head to look up at the orb above the City, flooded his eyes with seidr to see the paths through the nexus. It led him through the Halls of All-Knowing. 

Loki turned to his left and walked. The City was vast and stretched further into the horizon with every step he took. He had been here with Thor and Odin when he and his brother had been young, and then another time, when he had snuck away from Thor, and attempted to enlist the Head Librarian for help. As had happened so many times before, anyone in a position to help him had refused.

He paused for a moment, thinking about that.

According to Clint, Steve could have done what so many others had done, and looked the other way, or believed Thor’s claims of cultural differences, that Loki truly wanted to be treated as such, that he’d _asked_ for it. Instead, Steve had seen something inside Loki that no one else had ever seen, something that Loki had hidden away so far deep inside himself that it could’ve barely been said to exist at all: hope, the desire for a life other than the one Thor allowed him to have. Yes, he was a being meant to live on his knees, but he could _choose_ it. Steve had kindled that hope into a raging fire of righteousness and Loki had taken the reins of his own life and killed the ones responsible for all the trouble. 

How strange to know the facts of his life while being unable to remember any of it. 

He walked on. 

He’d planned from the beginning to break the bonds between he and Thor. Oh, he’d schemed and he’d plotted and he’d planned, and he surely would’ve done it, barred from Asgard or no, but Steve had given him that extra push to really make certain of it all. That extra strength to stay standing when every molecule in his body demanded he go to his knees. 

Loki only wished to remember. 

The Head Librarian was an old being, thousands and thousands of centuries old, with gnarled hands and long white hair and a deeply wrinkled face. His nose was long and his eyes were sharp, and he hovered a foot off the ground, his white wings beating slowly behind him. He wore white robes, a dark red sash the only splash of color on him. He met Loki at the doors to the Hall of All-Knowing. 

“Loki,” he said, and his voice was like ripping parchment. “Are you still of Asgard?”

Loki inclined his head and gave the Librarian a bit of a bow. He showed his hands to show he had no weapons and replied, “I am Prince to King Balder, Lord Librarian. I come to walk through your halls to seek out Those Who Sit Above.”

Shock shown on the Librarian’s face for a moment and then he nodded. “It has been many centuries since you darkened my doors, Loki of Asgard,” the Librarian said, and the doors to the Hall slowly swung open, and Loki walked silently behind the Librarian inside. “I must say, I found it shocking that your brother was here more often than you.”

Ah. Wasn’t that _interesting_.

Loki clasped his hands behind his back. “My brother, yes,” he replied, keeping his tone light and conversational. “He gave me tales of his journeys here to seek guidance and information from these hallowed halls. I repeat his journey in much the same fashion as he.”

The Librarian stopped down the first hall, looking up at the endless stacks and shelves of books. They stretched in all directions, up and down and left and right, as far as the eye could see. When Odin had brought him and Thor here, when they had been young, Loki had thought he had stepped into Valhalla. 

“News travels even here,” the Librarian finally said. “It is said that you slit the Thunderer’s throat.”

“Aye,” Loki replied. “He bled out upon the Bifrost.” He turned his head to see the guards marching towards them and he sighed. “Must we?”

“Loki of Asgard,” one of them called. “We bring you before Those Who Sit Above for the accusation of killing King Thor of Asgard.”

“Very well,” Loki sighed out. “Do make it quick, though. I am rather busy.”

* * *

Steve was a great help around the house, Clint found. He did any chores asked of him without complaint, and then asked for more. He did all the repairs around the house and even got to work on converting the dining room into a sunroom and an office like how Clint had thought of so long ago. He managed to have some sort of magic touch with Nate and always managed to get the baby to sleep, even if he was horribly awkward with the boy. The kids loved him, Laura loved him, Clint loved him. 

Loki had been gone for a couple days when Clint finally harassed Steve into letting him show him how to shoot a bow. Steve had said that he was from the past but that didn’t mean he had to know how to shoot ancient weaponry, which had actually made Clint speechless for almost an entire minute. Laura had high-fived Steve over that, which was rude. 

They were trudging through the woods when Loki decided to go to Omnipotence City, which was an interesting move on his part. But Clint shrugged to himself and focused on Steve, who was carrying Clint’s recurve bow, a quiver of arrows, and a bow that Clint had gotten for his kids. Steve was probably going to break it the first time he drew it back, but it would still be funny. 

“You ready, Cap?”

Steve shot him an amused look. “Barton, I’m always ready.”

They trudged through the woods and Clint led Steve to the target area of his range, pointing out the straw bales and the stumps. He slapped up a few paper targets and then herded Steve to about ten yards away to where they could use a downed tree as a sort of table. Steve set down everything he’d been carrying and took the bottle of water Clint offered, downing half of it before handing it back. 

Clint picked up his Aesir bow and ran his fingers over the scrollwork on the limbs. He began showing Steve the different parts of the bow and how it was made differently than the regular recurve bow. He was explaining the physics of firing an arrow and all the required calculations when he looked up to see something fond on Steve’s face. 

Clint frowned. “What?”

“If I ever get my shield back, I want to see how good you are with it.”

“Geez, Cap,” Clint grumbled. “I doubt I’d be—”

Steve shook his head and held up a hand. “Don’t try to pull that with me, Clint. We both know better. Now, I want you to do something.”

“Sure,” Clint agreed, and in one quick movement, Steve picked up the half-empty water bottle and tossed it into the air. In the same moment, Clint picked up the Aesir bow, nocked an arrow, and fired it through lengthwise the bottle, pinning it to a tree through the bottle cap. 

Steve smiled at him. “Anyone who can do something like that could wield my shield,” he said quietly, and then motioned back towards the targets. 

“Loki could—”

“I know,” Steve interrupted. “Tony can keep it.” He picked up an arrow and spun it between his fingers. “It was a compliment, Clint. Now, let’s see who’s better.”

Clint had been right. Steve broke the child’s bow the second he pulled back the draw. It shattered in his hands and he looked down at the shards with wide eyes while Clint howled in laughter. Even his recurve creaked ominously, which had Clint paling and hurriedly handing Steve the Aesir bow. 

“Loki gave this to you?” Steve asked, running his fingers over the gold scrollwork in the same way Clint had. Clint nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

It was probably the most beautiful thing Clint had ever seen. Sometimes he got a bit choked up just thinking about it. So he just nodded again.

He showed Steve the proper stance and again how to properly draw back the arrow and how to aim and then Clint stepped back.

“You always do the same thing when you use a bow,” Clint told him. “It has to become more than habit. It’s more like instinct. It’s ingrained in you. You can’t be thinking about how heavy the draw is or where on the string you nock the arrow or how to set it properly in the rest. It’s not something you even have to think about. It’s easy compared to everything else we do.”

Steve let loose and fired again and again until the quiver was empty. He lowered the bow and Clint took it back, the two of them walking up to the targets to see how well Steve had done. 

“Not bad,” Clint grinned at him as they began pulling the arrows out. “Only lost a few of them. Hell, you even managed to hit the target.”

Steve rolled his eyes and yanked a particularly deep seated arrow out of a tree. “What’s your thought process when you’re firing? You said you don’t think, but there has to be _something._”

Clint frowned, sliding arrows back into the quiver he’d brought up to the targets with him. “It’s all instinct,” he replied, trying to keep irritation out of his voice. “Steve, I’ve done this _thousands_ of times. I literally don’t even think about it. I can just see a target and know how to aim to hit it. I have to do some calculations but it's more something that I _know_ instead of have to figure out.”

They walked back to the fallen tree. “My head hurts just from doing that little bit of it,” Steve said back, picking up the recurve bow and sliding his thumb down the string. “Clint, some of the things I’ve seen you do…” He shook his head and lowered the bow. “It shouldn’t be possible. And here you are, telling me it doesn’t even take any thought.”

“It’s instinct,” Clint shot back, frustrated. “Look: the only time I feel purposeful is when I have a bow in my hand. It’s the only time I feel like I’m worth something. I _have_ to be good at it.” He shook his head. “It’s something I’ve done for so long that it’s just second-nature. I can see a target for a split second and know how to hit it. Sometimes I just get a sense of a target and I still hit it. I don’t miss. I _can’t_ miss.” He curled his hand into a fist around an arrow and tried to breathe out the irritation he was feeling. He couldn’t even place why or where it came from. “I’m not enhanced or have any special training or anything, Steve. I’m just fucking dedicated to the only thing I’ve ever been good at. The only thing that ever made me _useful_.” There was so much more he could say, so much more that he wanted to say, but Steve wasn’t his fucking therapist. He didn’t need to put that burden on Steve’s shoulders, not when they already had so much to focus on. More important shit than him, anyway. 

Clint dodged the hand that Steve reached out for him. Steve cleared his throat. “Let’s head back to the house. We can pick this up again some other time.”

Good going, Barton. 

Clint nodded and after they made sure everything was picked up, Clint followed Steve out of the woods. Steve was quiet and contemplative as they walked back to the house, and Clint finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Wilson and Barnes tell you what I did out there?”

Steve chuckled. “Surprisingly, no.”

Clint grinned at him. “Shooting contest. Sam got that fancy rifle from SHIELD for Barnes and decided to get me to compete. Anyway, Barnes went first and then I shot arrows into all of his bullet holes.”

Steve barked out a laugh and then clapped Clint on the back. “Good going. Bet that knocked him down a peg.”

Before Clint could say anything, Lila and Cooper ambushed them, busting through the tall grass to try and tackle Steve to the ground. Once he managed to figure out it was just Clint’s horrible little children, Steve let himself be taken down, pretending to lose the fight. Lila cackled and tried to get Steve in an armbar, which then turned into Steve coaching them on take-down and immobilization techniques. At least it was Steve teaching them. Clint’s lessons usually included telling them to kick their assailants in the nuts and run. 

He watched his kids wrestle on the front lawn for a few minutes before he shed his bows to the ground and joined them. Cooper was testing out one of Steve’s moves on Clint when suddenly, strange emotions from Loki flooded the bond. 

_You need me?_ he asked, sitting up and flipping Cooper around so Clint could grab him in a choke hold. 

_Keep an eye on the Captain. I will summon you if I have need of you._

Clint shrugged at that. _Alright, boss._

Lila jumped on him and Steve wrestled her off of Clint, right as a car drove up. It was a beat up old thing, rust-brown and sounding about a week away from death. A tall man got out of the driver’s seat and looked around, shading his eyes with his hand. 

The bottom fell out of Clint’s stomach. 

Carefully, he pushed Lila and Cooper off of him and slowly moved to his feet. Steve hissed his name but Clint shook his head, picking up his Aesir bow and his quiver of arrows. He didn’t nock one; it probably wasn’t necessary, but it felt good to have the option. He could loose an arrow faster than almost anyone could draw a gun and shoot anyway. 

Clint lifted his hand and opened his fingers. The ruby-hilted dagger appeared in his palm, and he spun it around before striding forward, ready to use it if necessary. It was more deadly of a weapon than the bow and arrow, anyway. His kids both gasped with astonishment and Steve shushed them. 

The man saw him and beamed at him, dropping his hand from his face. “Clint!” he called, a smile in his voice. “Still using that bow, huh?”

“Barney,” Clint greeted slowly. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“A guy can’t come see his little brother?”

“Most guys, sure,” Clint said with a shrug, stopping within easy throwing distance. He let the sun catch the shine of the blade and Barney’s eyes dropped to it. “You ain’t the type, though.”

“Sure ain’t,” Barney agreed with a smile. 

Clint grinned back and went around the car for a hug, Barney wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Clint pulled back first and waved Steve and the kids over. Steve shook his head and herded the kids towards the house, shushing their protests. Clint shrugged and turned back to Barney.

“Stay here a minute, Barn. Let me go get Laura, she’ll be glad to see you.” She wouldn’t be glad, and Barney knew that, but they could pretend. Clint jogged up the porch stairs and slid his dagger back onto the sheath on his belt. He kept his Aesir bow in his hand and the quiver on his back. “Hon?”

Laura called his name from the kitchen and Clint winced at how angry she sounded.

Clint leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen and crossed his arms. “Uhh...so…” he started, and Laura turned around from the stove to glare at him. “Barney’s outside.”

“So I heard,” she said stiffly. “Are you planning on inviting him in?”

Clint uncrossed his arms and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Not if you don’t want him here,” he tried.

Laura sighed, clearly trying to let go of her anger towards Barney, which wasn’t really a reasonable thing for her to do. “We’re harboring a criminal,” she hissed. “Captain America or otherwise, he’s a fugitive. And you want to bring _Barney_ in here.” She shook her head and looked about a second away from spitting in anger. “You know how I feel about him.”

Clint tried not to shrug. It wasn’t like he felt any different. But Barney was his brother. “We’ll ask Steve,” he finally decided.

Steve poked his head in from the living room. “Clint?” he asked, and turned his head to tell something to the kids. He walked into the kitchen and mirrored Clint’s position against the doorframe. “Alright, who is he?”

“My brother,” Clint said sheepishly, stopping himself from digging the toe of his boot into the floor. Steve looked shocked for a moment before schooling his face into placidity. “He just shows up sometimes.”

Steve just looked at him.

“He’s kind of a dick,” Clint offered up.

Steve sat down at the kitchen table and waved Clint to a seat as well. He grumbled a bit but did as Steve asked. Laura finished cooking and spooned up a couple bowls for the kids and after making sure they were seated in front of the TV, she made a pointed motion of locking the front door. Clint sighed. 

Laura got herself a bowl of food and then sat at the head of the table, looking pointedly at Clint.

He sighed again. “What do you want to know?” he asked Steve.

Steve tapped his fingers on the table and motioned for Clint to get him a bowl of food. Clint put his bow and quiver on the table and got up to get Steve what he wanted. It was good to do something to quiet his mind, just for a few seconds.

“He was the only thing I had after we left our folks,” Clint said quietly as he brought Steve’s bowl over for him. Steve took it with a nod and waved Clint to sit back down. He took a bite and then handed Clint the fork. They shared the bowl as Clint talked. Laura watched from the far end of the table, eyes dark.

“We managed to stay together, you know, for years. Barney always pissing everyone off, me always having to fix all his fuck-ups. We got dragged all over Iowa, Barney managing to mess up every good thing we had. We joined up with the circus, tried to make something of ourselves.” Clint took in a deep breath and then slowly let it out. “Barney convinced me to run off with them. I didn’t want to, I don’t think. I’m not sure anymore.” Steve frowned a bit, but he didn’t say anything, so Clint continued.

“We met the Swordsman and Trick Shot at that circus. I’d been shooting a bow since I was a kid, but they really...they really showed me how to be _good_ at it. How to make myself worth something.”

Very slowly, Steve reached out and rested his hand on Clint’s wrist. His thumb stroked the back of Clint’s hand.

“Barney was helping them embezzle from the circus and steal from customers. I didn’t...Cap, I’m not like that. I might not be the best guy out there, but I’m not like that. But Barney always had my back.”

“I was the one who took you to the hospital,” Laura spoke up. Clint turned his head to look at her. “They beat the hell out of you and left you for dead. I found you and saved your life.”

“Do you trust him?” Steve asked of him.

Clint’s immediate response was to nod, but he caught himself. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “But he’s my brother. I can’t turn him away.”

Steve nodded. “Will he tell anyone I’m here?”

“‘Course not!” Clint exclaimed.

“He’d sell you out for a dollar,” Laura hissed at the same time. “He’s done it before.”

“Aw, Laura, geez,” Clint muttered. “He jus—he gets _stuck_. He runs.”

“If he did that to Loki, you kill him,” Laura pointed out. “Or if someone did that to me, or the kids.”

Well, then.

It wasn’t like she was _wrong._

_I am being brought before Those Who Sit Above for the crime of killing Thor. Do tell Balder._

Fucking great.

* * *

* * *

“Steve Rogers,” Steve introduced himself to Barney, who actually managed to look shell-shocked. He held out his hand. “I trust you won’t be telling anyone where I am?”

Barney shook Steve’s hand, shaking his hand. “Charles Barton,” he said, and Steve quickly disengaged their hands, motioning Barney towards the porch swing. “Well, everyone calls me Barney. And no, you don’t have to worry, Captain America. I won’t say a word.”

A raven winged down and Steve sighed, quickly opening a window for it. He shut the window before Barney could hear what the bird said.

Barney didn’t even seem to notice. “Barely believed Clint was an Avenger,” Barney said with a small laugh. “Let alone working with _you_. Captain America. Sheesh.”

Steve leaned back against the porch railing and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you here, Barney?” he asked sternly.

The voice worked even on Barney Barton, who blinked a few times and then looked up at him. “To see Clint,” he said easily. “He’s m’brother an’ all.”

Steve frowned. “And what do you need from him?”

Barney leaned back and crossed his legs, clasping his hands in his lap. He smiled a bit. “Few days from now is the anniversary of our dear old dad dyin’,” he said with a sharp smile. “Figured my baby brother would want to spend that day with me.”

The porch door opened and Clint walked out, raven in his hand. He said something to it and then looked at Barney. The raven took flight and disappeared into the clouds.

“I’m busy,” Clint finally said, turning to look at Barney. “You can stay for today, but no more than that.”

“Interesting that you’re busy,” Barney mused, “given the whole house arrest and all.”

Clint frowned and glanced at Steve, who just looked a bit stern and tired of it all. “We have a new baby, Barn. Two kids on top of that, and I’m doing some consulting work to keep food on the table.”

Barney pushed to his feet and grinned at them. “Show me around, Francy.”

“_Francy?_” Steve mouthed, a hint of a grin pulling at his mouth, and Clint just shook his head.

“You can crash on the couch,” Clint said with a sigh, and Steve followed the brothers inside.

* * *

_My brother is in town._

_Why would I care what town your brother is in? Have I not enough to deal with?_

_No, you idiot. He’s at my house._

Loki took one of Clint’s eyes and turned his head to peer at Barney, who was really nothing remarkable. Neither of them were much to look at, but at least Clint had made something of himself. He was the only married one of the two of them, anyway. 

He also had Loki.

_Pray tell, why is your brother more important to you than the fact that I am being held in a cell underneath Omnipotence City?_

Clint sighed. _I can’t just...send him away. He’s my brother._

_Oh, pardon me for already having killed mine!_

Steve rested a hand on Clint’s shoulder and he turned his head to look up at him. “How is he?” Steve asked, his voice quiet.

“Pissed,” Clint sighed. “I gotta get out of here soon.”

Loki grumbled something mean and gave Clint his eye back, sliding out of his mind. He was in a cold, dark cage, hanging from a seidr chain from the bottom of Omnipotence City, floating out over the abyss, the shattered planet, the endless void. Those Who Sit Above were currently gathering themselves, which meant Loki only had a day or two at most.

Balder was already aware, and he, along with a brigade of Einherjar, were headed to Omnipotence City. Heimdall was due to join them, as was Clint. 

Steve muttered something to Barney and then dragged Clint to his feet and down the hall to Loki’s rooms. Clint put up a token protest and then let Steve push him down onto Loki’s couch and he watched him pace in front of him.

“You’re going alone?” Steve finally bit out.

Clint frowned at him. Huh. “Yeah?”

Steve stopped next to the seidr-frozen wildflowers he’d given Loki, brushed his fingers along the petals. “He’s mine,” Steve finally said. “Whether he remembers it or not, he’s _mine._” Steve turned his head to look at Clint. “What’s his plan?”

Clint thought about that. “He’s considering two different plans. He’s either going to plea to the good graces of Those Who Sit Above, which he doesn’t think will work, or he’s going to have me try and kill them, which will go badly. It’ll go beyond bad, actually.”

Steve nodded, turning away from the wildflowers. “I’m going with you.”

“Not sure how that’s gonna work, Cap,” Clint told him apologetically. “I can go to his side no matter the circumstance, no matter where in a galaxy or whatever black hole he’s tripped into. I mean, unless he’s less than 10 feet from me. But you...you’re stuck here.”

Steve shook his head. “No. We’re going to figure out a way.”

“I can jump over there, get the Tesseract, and jump back?” Clint finally offered. “But that’d take away his only means of escape. Well, he could pull himself to me, but that isn’t as dramatic.”

Steve glared at nothing while he thought. “What’s going to happen to him?” he finally asked, a frown creasing his face.

Clint sighed. “Those Who Sit Above don’t conference very often. Maybe once a century, if that. They have a history of...creative punishments.” He swallowed thickly. “They’re the creators of everything, you know. Asgard, the Nine Realms, everything that we know, they made. Or that’s the myth, anyway. But if they find Loki guilty of killing Thor, which they will, they’re going to do something unthinkable.”

“Guilty? Why would they find him guilty?” Steve interrupted.

Clint’s eyebrows drew together. “Because he did. They don’t care about motive, they don’t care about his past, about Thor’s treatment of him, all they care about is that Loki cut Thor’s throat and watched him bleed out. They’ll listen to a defense, especially from Balder, but they’re going to find him guilty no matter what.”

Steve moved over to an armchair and slowly sat down, rubbing at his chin. “And he’s not just leaving because?”

“Well, he wants something from them. He went to Omnipotence City to talk to them. This is just a faster way.”

“Alright,” Steve said with a firm nod. “I’m going with. I don’t care how, I’m going. He kept me on Earth when he battled Thor, and I’m not staying behind anymore.” His voice slowly deepened into a growl and Clint shuddered. “There’s no where he can go that I can’t follow. He is _mine_, which means you belong to me too. We’re already partially soulbound; I am compelled to be at his side, to protect him, to help him, the same as you. So you’re going to go to him, and I’m going with you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” Clint said quietly.

“Good. Go tell your wife that we’re leaving. I’ll get Barney out of the house.”

Clint nodded and went to do as he was told.

Steve sat there for another few minutes, trying to calm himself down. He’d noticed his anger growing lately, getting frustrated more easily, more and more of a short fuse. It’d started ever since Hjalmar had soothed their bond. Clint had told him that Loki had calmed a bit, but Steve had gotten the short end of the stick. He was just so _angry._

Ever since the serum, ever since he’d become Captain America, so much of his life had been about restraint. It felt like he’d lost that control over himself and he was scrambling to try and get it back. 

He took in a deep breath, and then another, and then pushed to his feet. 

Barney wasn’t partial to leaving, but Steve had long ago learned that people looked up to him, and that people were also not partial to saying no to him. Clint and Barney had collected Captain America comics when they were kids. Clint had dressed up as him for Halloween one year. Clint had gotten over his awe, but Barney hadn’t had a chance. Which meant Steve could push him out of the house and he’d go.

That’d been the plan, anyway. Barney didn’t seem partial to going anywhere.

He was lounging in Loki’s chair, feet up on the ottoman, beer in one hand, TV remote in the other. Steve had already asked him to leave, told him that they had family business to take care of. Barney had insisted that he was family and had refused to leave, which was _baffling._

Steve was about a minute away from physically picking Barney up and throwing him out of the house when Clint tripped down the stairs. Steve rolled his eyes and went over to help him, grabbing Clint’s arm and helping him to his feet. “You hurt?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet as he brushed Clint’s clothes off.

Clint picked one of his hearing aids up off the floor and looked it over before hooking it back in his ear. He shook his head. “Naw, I’m used to it. You ready to go?”

Barney spoke up before Steve could say anything. “You deaf for good?”

They both turned to see him standing near the open doors to Loki’s rooms, but Barney wasn’t looking in or seemed to be aware they were even there. “Yeah,” Clint said quietly. “Happened a while ago.”

Barney swallowed and nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thought you’d grown out of that.”

“Not sure that’s how it works,” Clint snorted, picking up his bag and jumping down the rest of the stairs. Steve rolled his eyes at him. “Anyway, bro, we’re headed out.”

Barney nodded. “Alright. I’ll be seeing you, then.”

Clint sighed. “You need money or something? Look, we have shit to go do. If you want money, I’ll give you money. But you have to leave, Barn.”

Barney pretended to look shocked for a moment before dropping it. He sighed and rubbed at his face. “Clint, look. There’s...rumors of you and that god. I, uh, got in bad with some folks. They offered to let me off if I could get photos.”

“Jesus fuck,” Clint breathed out, shaking his head. “You’ve _got_ to be shitting me, Barney.”

Barney shook his head. “Look, Clint, I need this.”

“I don’t _care,_ Barn. This is your problem. Now get the fuck out of my house.” Clint motioned Steve towards Barney, who put his hands up, and Clint ducked into Loki’s rooms while Steve dragged Barney out of the house. “Fuckin’ dumbass,” Clint grumbled. Loki kept a stash of various currencies hidden in a safe in his rooms, because he was a paranoid bastard. He’d made a grand gesture of keying Clint to it a few months ago, like Clint hadn’t already known how to open it.

He lifted the floorboard and brushed his hand over the cold stone beneath. After a moment, green seidr lit up and Clint pressed his palm to the center of the small circle. Three presses and the safe opened. Easy as that.

Huh, Loki had added to the safe since Clint had opened it last. There was an envelope with Clint’s name on it. He pocketed a bundle of 100s for Barney and then picked up the envelope. God, he hoped it wasn’t another weird note from Loki on the untimely event of his death.

_Clint,_

_Enclosed you will find the monthly sum that I have been giving to your wife. I swore once to take care of you and yours, and I have not reneged on that promise. She has begun the process of declaring your property to no longer be a part of this country and to be property of Asgard. More specifically, my property. I do not enjoy the thought of SHIELD or government agents being allowed to come here as they wish to document your location or to attempt to steal another one of our compatriots._

_Given that you are no longer Midgardian, you do not come under sanction of the Sokovia Accords. If they come for you, the wards will not let you leave. They are spelled to not allow you exit under duress. I would suggest to anyone who comes for you that they rethink their decision, for the wards are not kind._

_Take whatever you wish. Money is no concern. Do note that whatever you take, I will concurrently take out of your hide._

_Loki, Prince of Asgard_

Dumbass. Jesus.

After considering it, Clint took another bundle of 100s. He wanted to really make it worth it.

He left the money in the envelope—it looked to be about ten grand, which, no wonder they’d been afford to feed Bucky and Sam and Steve and Loki’s weird habits—and closed the safe, dropping the floorboard back on top of it. He glanced around Loki’s rooms, made sure there was nothing else that they’d need, and left, kicking the doors shut behind him.

He met Steve and Barney out in front of the house after calling another goodbye to his wife and kids. Steve lifted his Aesir bow and quiver and Clint nodded, stepping up next to him. He pulled the two bundles of money out of his pocket and tossed them at Barney.

“Hopefully that makes a dent in whatever you owe,” Clint told him, sliding his hands in his pockets. “I’m gonna warn you ahead of time before you think of breaking in and trying to find the rest. You won’t find it, and I can promise you that there’s magic on this house that’ll make you regret it.”

“How much do you owe?” Steve asked before Barney could say anything.

Barney groaned and flipped through the money before pocketing it. “About 150 grand,” he muttered, rubbing at the back of his neck. “This is a good down payment on it, Clint.”

Clint let himself be pulled into a hug before Barney slid into his shitty car and drove back down the driveway, the squeal of his engine dying on the wind.

“He’s not gonna pay it,” Clint grumbled, taking his bow, quiver, and bag from Steve. “He’s been gambling on dumb shit ever since we were kids. I never got into it. Lost the rent more than once. Always hounding after me for money.” He shook his head and looked at Steve, who had his arms crossed and a frown on his face. “Cap, you good?”

“He didn’t even thank you,” Steve muttered, but then he held his hand out. “You ready?”

“Always.”

Clint grabbed his bag and slid the strap over his shoulder, taking Steve’s hand. He closed his eyes and _pulled._

It was kind of being pushed down a flight of stairs. First the shove, then the weightlessness, and then the crash. He opened his eyes and they hadn’t moved.

“You’re gonna have to hold my hand and the stone,” Clint finally decided after trying one more time. “That’s the only way this’ll work.”

Steve nodded and stepped forward, sliding his hand over Clint’s neck, pressing his fingers into the stone. Every time Loki touched it, he was sucked under, pushed down, his soul on its knees. When Steve touched it, it was similar, but not as powerful. He _knew_ Steve, knew him deep down, knew him similarly to the way he knew Loki. Clint belonged to Loki, ergo he belonged to Steve too.

“Tell me to,” Clint whispered, leaning into Steve’s hand.

“Take me to Loki,” Steve ordered. “Take both of us to Loki.”

Clint nodded and closed his eyes and _pulled._

* * *

They landed in the same small cage hanging under Omnipotence City, much to Loki’s surprise. He had been meditating, trying not to let his Jotun form push out from underneath the shattering glamour. It was _cold_. Clint shuddered and Loki immediately opened a pocket dimension and pulled out a heavy fur cloak, wrapping his shoulders in it.

“You came,” Loki said, a note of surprise in his voice. He carefully stood from the small perch and inclined his head to Steve. “Captain.” His eyes widened a moment later. “How did he bring you?”

“I told him to,” Steve said firmly. He opened his mouth to continue speaking and then thought better of it. He turned his attention to the cage they were in. It was similar to a bird cage, only much larger, and hanging over the shattered planet below. He swallowed and then nodded. “Alright, how do we get out of here?”

“Those Who Sit Above will be notified soon that the cage has uninvited visitors. They will quickly pull me up and put the situation to rights.” Loki sighed and pursed his lips, primly sitting down on the perch again. He crossed his legs and waved Steve to the seat next to him. “They will not be pleased.”

“You don’t seem upset by that,” Steve noted as he sat down. He rubbed at his arms and Loki quickly summoned a similar fur wrap for him, which Steve took gratefully. Loki helped him wrap it correctly while Clint sat down on the floor of the cage, leaning his back against the bag he’d brought. 

“Not particularly,” Loki replied, clasping his hands in his lap. “Anything that brings me to their attention can only speed up my trial. Do Balder and Heimdall come?”

Clint shrugged. “Probably.” He yawned and kicked out his feet. “Wake me when they come try to kill us or whatever.”

Steve and Loki sat in uncomfortable silence for awhile. 

Steve spoke first. “I’ve never seen your Jotun form,” he said finally, eyes glancing over the blue skin trying to break through the fraying glamour. “I never asked.”

Loki pressed his lips together and thought about waking Clint up. The archer had an unfortunate habit of being able to sleep in any situation. “It seems that I will be unable to keep from showing you,” Loki finally said, “for the power of the glamour seems to have faded almost completely.”

“Can’t you fix it?”

Loki smoothed his palms over his thighs, seemingly unable to keep from fidgeting. “I need quiet and time. My seidr is...unpredictable, currently. It responds well enough to my commands but it seems volatile at times. Clint is able to help me quiet it but it is only temporary.”

Steve stiffened. “How does Clint help?”

Loki turned his head to regard him. He looked solemnly at Steve for a long moment before opening his mouth and saying, “I hurt him. We both enjoy it.”

“You _hurt_ him?” Steve repeated, almost incredulously.

“It seems you were unaware of that fact,” Loki mused. “I did not tell you, then. I must have known you disapproved.”

Steve cleared his throat. “Should I ask why?”

“Why you disapprove? I have no earthly idea.”

“Loki.”

Loki sighed and tossed his hair over his shoulder, uncrossing and recrossing his legs. “It changes depending on our differing needs. Often I scratch him until he bleeds, or feed him pain potions. I nearly drowned him one time when my seidr was...behaving poorly.”

“Jesus,” Steve muttered, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands. “How long?”

Loki frowned. “Perhaps a year? My memory is poor as of late. Perhaps longer.”

“Why did you hide this from me?”

“It seems your disapproval is not something I actively seek out,” Loki said after thinking about it for a minute. “If we were as close as claimed, it seems this was something I would have hidden.”

“You _drowned_ him?”

“Yes,” Loki replied smugly. “He enjoyed it.” He held up a finger. “It is not sexual. It is a facet of control.”

“Clint,” Steve called, reaching out with his foot to kick Clint in the leg. Clint jerked awake and then glared at the two of them, rubbing at his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me about Loki hurting you?”

Clint yawned and sat up, pulling the bear fur tighter around his shoulders. “Knew you wouldn’t like it,” he grumbled. “Loki has a worry that if you get mad at him again, you’ll leave us. Him, whatever.” He shook his head. “I can’t separate if it’s him or me anymore.”

“Is there a difference?” Loki said after a long, tense moment.

“I fuckin’ hope so,” Clint muttered, and then he turned his attention to Steve. “Cap, look. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. We should have. If you want, you can watch next time.”

Loki made to put up a protest but Clint shushed him.

Steve just sighed at the two of them. “Tell me why,” he demanded of the two of them. “You said it helps, Loki, but why?” When Loki took a moment too long to reply, Steve bit out, “Tell me. Now.”

Loki’s mouth opened without his consent and words spilled out of his mouth. “When I feel out of control, taking control of someone else’s pain calms me down.” He clapped both of his hands over his mouth and gave Steve a wide-eyed, betrayed look.

Clint chuckled. “Told you,” he said to Loki. “Just because you don’t remember doesn’t mean you don’t still belong to him.”

Before anyone else could say anything, there came a strange whirring sound from above the cage. The cage jerked a minute later and they were being raised up through the sky, moving through the bottom of Omnipotence City and up into a strange, empty room. It was shaped oddly, as if part of it was fit into a dimension none of them could see, and it was a strange grey color that made the room seem both endless and claustrophobic. 

Five guards greeted them as the cage rose into the air and then settled back onto the ground. Loki raised his eyebrows at them. They were dressed in gold armor, with horned helms, and each of them had gold wings coming out of their backs. Their skin was a peculiar shade of white with a strange kind of gold shimmer that would catch the eye. They each carried a gold spear tipped with a strange blade that looked to be made out of some type of large, very sharp scale, perhaps from a massive snake or a dragon.

The head guard, who had an extra horn on his helm to designate his rank, pointed his spear at Loki, who merely blinked at them and then slowly curled his lips into a smile. 

Clint pushed to his feet and slid the ruby-hilted dagger out of its sheath, keeping a wary eye on the guards.

“This is not allowed,” the head guard announced, brandishing his sword at Clint and Steve. “Your guests will be escorted out of Omnipotence City and you will be hung again.”

“Perhaps you can tell Those Who Sit Above that if they force my bodyguard and soulmate to abandon me in their _fair city_, then I have no reason to keep up the farce of this being a fair trial. You really believe Loki of Asgard cannot leave? That I stay for no other reason than my own desire?” He scoffed, tossing his hair over his shoulder. “Call your masters and tell them to summon me.”

“You cannot demand an audience!” the head guard exclaimed, raising his spear to point it at the ceiling. His wings fluttered and he floated a bit off the floor. “You are on trial here, Loki-Prince. You will wait until Those Who Sit Above are ready.” One of the other guards touched their spear to the cage and a few of the bars disappeared. They motioned for Steve and Clint to vacate the cage, but neither of them moved.

Loki smirked. “On trial may I be, but even Those Who Sit Above do not tell the only Prince of Asgard what to do” He motioned Clint forward and the archer stood in front of him, light glinting off the blade in his hand. “He carries the blade that killed Thor. Do you wish to antagonize him?” Loki motioned to Steve, who lifted his chin and clenched his jaw, hands curling into fists. “I have with me two warriors of Midgard. I am here to see them, however Those Who Sit Above wish to manipulate _me._”

“There is no manipulation,” the head guard bit out, baring long, sharp teeth. Loki merely lifted an eyebrow. “There is a due process that must be followed for trial.”

Steve stepped forward, shouldering in front of Loki. “I’m Steve,” he greeted, lifting a hand awkwardly. “Maybe you can answer a few questions for me.” The head guard’s eyes narrowed but he nodded slowly. “My understanding is that Those Who Sit Above created everything, Asgard, the Nine Realms, all of it. However, each of the Realms are their own separate entity. Which means that they govern themselves.” The various guards nodded slowly. “So, that means that the only person who can charge Loki with the crime of killing Thor is the King, right?”

“Those Who Sit Above can send anyone they wish to trial,” one of the guards interrupted. “They are all-knowing.”

“Isn’t that interesting,” Steve mused, turning back to look at Loki and Clint. Loki looked unamused but Clint gave Steve a thumbs-up. “Seems to me that they’d know what Thor was doing to Loki, then, and they would’ve stopped it.”

The five guards frowned. “We do not speak for Those Who Sit Above,” the head guard finally said. Another guard stepped forward and motioned at Clint and Steve with his spear. “You two, out. Now.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin.

Before any of them could say anything, the grey ceiling cracked and widened and a deep, low voice boomed out, “We call for Loki of Asgard to appear before our council.”

Clint made a show of checking a non-existent watch. “‘Bout fuckin’ time,” he grumbled, picking up both his and Steve’s bags and following Steve and Loki out of the cage. “Spent too much of my life in cells.”

The guards herded them towards a set of stairs that descended from the rift in the ceiling. Steve shot Clint a curious look, a hint of a smile on his mouth. “How many times you been in prison, Barton? Besides the Raft.”

Clint thought about it and counted on his fingers. “Four, I think? Barney always left me to clean up his messes.” He shrugged. “Sometimes they were my own messes, too.” He groaned as they stepped onto the staircase. “Doesn’t this place have escalators?”

Loki rolled his eyes and a tendril of seidr wrapped around Clint’s ankles, immediately weighing down his boots. Clint groaned loudly and one of the guards shot him a scandalized look.

“You ever been in prison, Cap?” Clint called up as he immediately slowed going up the stairs. Steve rolled his eyes and skittered past a guard to swing an arm around Clint’s waist and help him. 

“I was in the army, if that counts,” Steve said with a shrug. “It’s only been a recent development that people want to put me in jail.”

Clint grinned at that. “Captain America, the international fugitive.”

They finally reached the top of the staircase and Loki released the spell on Clint’s boots, sweeping into an over-dramatic bow as Balder hailed them from across the vast room. They were clearly inside of the orb above the City, as the walls rounded off towards the ceiling, glowing with the same ethereal glow as the rest of Omnipotence City. There was a strange type of desk on the far side of the massive room, made out of dark wood, and seven figures shrouded in darkness loomed behind it. The desk was high above the ground, and the guards led them to the smaller tables before it, prodding Loki into the chair between the two tables. 

The guards motioned for Clint and Steve to sit at the two tables, but they both stubbornly stood behind Loki’s chair, as did Balder and Heimdall. The various Einherjar stayed back, weapons at the ready. The guards moved away, off to the sides of the judging stage.

Loki smoothed down his robes before he sat, elegantly crossing one leg over the other and clasping his hands in his lap. He tipped his head back and looked up at Those Who Sit Above.

One of the figures moved, making a strange creaking sound as they did. The dark shape of their head cracked open, grey light spilling out of jagged shape similar to a mouth. 

“Loki of Asgard,” the figure said, and their voice was like grating stones. “You are accused of killing King Thor of Asgard.”

“Is that so,” Loki said quietly. “Do you have proof?”

Another one of the figures made a movement similar to a nod. “Aye,” they said, and moved a shadowy, horribly shaped hand with too many fingers. “You have admitted to such.”

Balder rested Stormbreaker on the floor and rested his hands over the axe head. “Why do you charge him with this crime now?” he asked of the figures, who all slowly and methodically turned their attention to him. “Thor has been dead for over a year.” He glanced around the room, at the various guards and the way the floor had closed up behind them, locking them in. “Do you truly deem this necessary? All of this for the death of one Aesir? Our people die every day, and yet you do none of this for them.”

Clint frowned.

“Why do you only care about Thor?” he asked, stepping up next to Loki, who turned his head to look at him, a faintly amused look on his face. “Heimdall killed Frigga, yet he is not brought to trial.”

Grey light spilled out from one of the figure’s face as it split. “You have no place here, Midgardian,” the figure declared, raising a long-fingered hand to point at Clint. “Escort him out.”

“I’m not Midgardian,” Clint shot back, “And I’d _love_ to watch you try to get me to leave. Why are we really here?”

The illusion broke apart, the figures above them fading away into dust, revealing the empty room, the walls fading away into dark, sharp edges. Loki held out a hand and Steve immediately helped him to his feet, all of them coming together to look around. Loki narrowed his eyes at the man and then didn’t let Steve release his grasp, intertwining their fingers. Balder and Heimdall stepped up, the Einherjar encircling them, weapons pointed out.

From high above, through a crack in the ceiling, a stone tablet descended. Loki stiffened, free hand feeling for the seidr pocket containing the Tesseract. Clint tore through his bag, pulling out his Aesir bow and quiver, nocking an arrow and pointing it up. He also tossed his ruby-hilted dagger to Steve, who grit his teeth and brandished the weapon. Balder hefted Stormbreaker and Heimdall lifted Hofund.

“I have been waiting for this,” Thanos’s voice echoed out over the room. “And here you come, back to me.”

“Back to you?” Loki replied, keeping his tone light and amused even as fear raced up his spine. “Interesting, as this is the first time we have met.”

“Is it?” Thanos replied, and the stone dias lowered completely to the floor, showing Thanos, alone, as big and as purple and ugly as ever. Clint leveled his bow right at the Titan’s face. “Your brother showed me different.” He lifted his left hand, upon which rested a heavy golden gauntlet. On the back, the Reality Stone glittered. 

_At least that’s the only one he has,_ Clint said. _We’d be even more fucked if he had the Power Stone._

“Interesting,” Loki replied without inflection, sliding his hand from Steve’s and stepping forward. He flooded his eyes with seidr again, sliding his gaze past Thanos and around the room, trying to calm the trembling of his heart. “Whatever Thor may have shown you, I _did_ kill him, so whatever deal you may have had...his death rendered it moot. Are we done here?”

Thanos smiled, lips stretching in a grotesque grin. “In one of your realities,” he said, his voice slow and sickening, “you showed Thor the memories of what my Children and I did to you.” Both Loki and Clint stiffened, Clint lowering his bow a few inches. Heimdall and Balder exchanged frowns. “He described to me those memories. In great detail. Would you like a reminder?” Thanos lifted his hand and the Reality Stone glittered bright red on the back of his fist, and in between them, a mirage of a collection of rocks in dark space appeared.

Then there was another Thanos, sitting on a massive stone throne, a strange crown upon his head. Before him, his Children, and crumpled at his feet, a younger Loki. He had shorter hair and was almost naked, except for a ripped pair of pants, and his entire body looked flayed alive.

The crowned Thanos stood up, his Children scattering, and both Loki’s trembled.

With one abrupt motion, Thanos sent his Children away, and he descended the stairs of his throne. He held out his hand to Loki, who, with quivering lips, brushed his mouth over the back of Thanos’s fingers.

“Do you wish to show them what happens next?” current Thanos asked, pausing the reenactment.

Loki swallowed and licked his lips, thinking furiously, seidr bleeding from his eyes, leaving them a swirling mix of Aesir green and Jotun red. “Very well,” he said slowly, looking around the room and the vision. “Show them.”

“Don’t do this,” Clint pled, lowering his bow and turning back to Loki. “Please don’t make me watch this. Don’t do this to Steve.”

The memory resumed, all of them watching in horror as Loki went to his knees, opening his mouth as Thanos fitted a heavy metal bridle around his head, metal pushing down on his tongue, and with a loud, final click, it closed. “Perhaps that will teach you to stay your tongue,” not-Thanos said, and not-Loki bowed his head, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’ll try sewing it shut next.”

“Stop,” Steve finally said, stepping forward, looking past the memory and up at real Thanos. “Tell us why we’re here.”

Thanos sighed at them and with a wave of his hand, dispelled the memory, giving Loki a dark look. “It’s rare to find one who breaks as well as he does,” Thanos said, but then he looked them over. “Thor promised me two Stones. I have come to collect.”

Loki’s mind raced.

_Two Stones. We had assumed three._

Clint gathered himself back up, pushing himself out of Loki’s fear. _Well, Thor did say he’d only promised him two. I’m assuming Mind Stone and Tesseract._

_The other option was the Aether, right? Not like Thor could’ve gotten his hands on the Time Stone._

Thanos raised his hand with the gauntlet, light glinting off the gold, catching the red depths of the Reality Stone. “He helped me find this as collateral,” Thanos volunteered for them, a hint of a smile on his face. “And gave me the location of two more.” He turned his attention to them. “Now I come for those promised to me.”

_Thor must’ve also told him about the Soul Stone and the Power Stone,_ Clint theorized. Loki agreed with him. _What about the Time Stone? Why wouldn’t he say anything about that?_

“What else do you search for?” Loki asked, eyes narrowed as he looked at the Titan. “We only know the location of the Mind Stone,” he offered up. “The knowledge of the others is lost to me, I’m afraid.”

Thanos’s eyes narrowed. 

“Is that so,” Thanos mused, and he stretched out the gauntlet, Reality Stone humming, but before he could do anything, Loki summoned the Tesseract and activated it, taking all of them to the field in front of Clint’s house.

The moment his boots touched the ground, Loki sunk to his knees, retching, spitting up sour spittle and curling in on himself. Heimdall and Balder moved away and then went inside the house as Clint wrapped his arms around Loki, holding him tight, Steve uncomfortably standing behind him, resting a hand on the back of Loki's head. The various Einherjar scattered, checking the property and wards.

_It’s alright,_ Clint soothed. _You can always run from him. We know what he knows now, and we know where he is._

“Was that real?” Steve finally asked, kneeling down next to them and swallowing as Loki turned away from him. Loki pulled himself away from Clint as well and stared unseeingly at the ground, horror swarming through him. “The memory.”

Clint nodded when Loki refused to answer. “Yeah,” Clint said, sitting up and looking at Steve. “That wasn’t even the worst of it, either. It was right before New York. He stirred Loki up like a rabid, starving dog and then set him on Earth like it was the first meal he’d seen in a year.” Clint thought about it, a frown creasing his forehead. “Actually, Thanos tried that plan in a few realities. I don’t think it ever worked.”

Loki finally managed to gather himself and pushed himself up to his feet, Clint and Steve jumping up to help him. They got him to the porch swing, but Loki crumpled to the porch as Steve sat.

Steve and Clint exchanged looks and Clint gently stroked the back of Loki’s head and jogged out to the field to gather up his bow and quiver and his bag and the ruby-hilted dagger and then ducked inside his house.

Loki knelt at Steve’s feet.

He finally understood.

“This is my place,” he said, voice faint with realization. “I am always meant to live on my knees. No matter how I run from it, no matter how I protest it, this is where I belong.”

“Hey now,” Steve said softly, sliding his hand into Loki’s hair to tilt his head back so he could look Loki in the eyes. “None of that. Not like that.” He sighed, just a bit. “Do you remember Sokovia? And what happened after?”

“Thor _took_ me," Loki spat bitterly.

Steve nodded. “He gave Stark the Scepter and gave him the idea for a planetary bodyguard. Then he helped him turn the Mind Stone into Vision. But he also took you.”

Loki nodded. Oh, he remembered. He remembered forcing himself to lean against Thor’s chest, feeling Thor’s heavy fingers slide down his side, not knowing where they would stop, _knowing_ what Thor wanted to do to him. He remembered. 

“Clint helped rescue you. I doubt he ever told you this, Loki, but I saw Thor fly down towards you and tried to throw myself off the Helicarrier. Clint stopped me, made me go back with him, get myself checked out. Then he sat with me for the entire flight home and got me squared away at Sam’s house. I spent the entire two days you were gone pacing a hole in his floor. Then Clint sends me a picture of you sleeping and a text telling me that he had to fight you to get you to sleep instead of seeing me.” Steve leaned forward and clutched Loki’s shoulders in his hands, resisting the urge to shake him. “Your place isn’t on your knees. It can be, if you want. But your place is with me. We belong _together._”

He released Loki and leaned back, rubbing at his eyes. Loki sat back on his heels and frowned to himself. Belong together, did they? 

His mind raced as things finally became clear.

“We should be married,” he said finally, pushing to his feet, pacing in short, rapid strides in front of Steve. Steve stared up at him, stunned. “It was our goal, yes? We can complete the soul bond, you can show me your memories of us, we can move past what Thor did to me.” Loki nodded to himself, thinking it over. Steve clearly had no desire to run from him, and had already declared his love for Loki. He did not seem to be a difficult man to care for, perhaps even love. 

Steve blinked a few times, opened his mouth and then clicked it shut again, clearly grasping for something to say. He rubbed his palms over his thighs and took in a deep breath. “I kissed Sharon,” he finally said, his voice quiet, as if he was spilling a secret. “Well, she kissed me.”

Loki stopped himself from shrugging. “Recently?”

“Before the airport battle. About...it was a few months ago.”

Loki stopped his pacing and frowned. “Do you wish to kiss her again?”

Steve sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t even want to kiss her the first time, not really.” He gave Loki a peculiar look. “I always thought you’d...react differently.”

“Would I have, before?” Loki asked, and his voice was soft. Oh, he knew the answer. He would’ve flown into a furious rage and then vanished, taking himself off to some far off galaxy, drowned his sorrows in foreign alcohols, and eventually he would’ve come back. Perhaps Steve would’ve found him, perhaps he would’ve come back on his own. 

Steve didn’t answer.

Loki waved his hand dismissively. “We are both stronger when we are together. Marriage is the rational next step. I’ll begin the preparations.”

“Never known you to be rational,” Steve said with a bit of a smile. 

Loki ignored that and went inside, porch door slamming behind him. 

Steve put his head in his hands. Finally he was getting everything he’d ever wanted, and Loki was looking at it like a business transaction, like they were two dueling factions tying themselves together for a peace treaty or something like the common good. Fucking great. 

The door banged open again. 

“Kissed Sharon, huh?” came Clint’s voice, more amused than the situation really called for. Steve didn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Ain’t that Peggy’s niece?”

Steve ruffled his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “She kissed _me,_” he grumbled. “I told her it was a mistake.” He shot Clint a sidelong glance. The archer took a swig of his beer and gave Steve a beaming smile. “Did you know?”

“‘Course I did, Cap. At the airport, Barnes gave Loki and me this weird warning that you were hiding something and that you didn’t want anyone to know. So I asked Wilson while we were on the Raft and he told me.” Clint shrugged. “Mostly, I thought it was funny. You gettin’ macked on by the niece of the lady you were sweet on.” He frowned. “What’d Buck think of that?”

“It was...more of a publicity thing,” Steve finally grit out. “After Bucky fell. From the train.” He curled one of his hands into a fist. “I did love her, but not like that. Buck never doubted that.”

Clint shrugged. “Alright.” He looked out over the fields and sighed, giving Steve a few moments to try to calm himself down. “Good thing you’re already laying low. This wedding thing is gonna be hilarious.”

With that, because he was the worst person in the world, Clint clapped Steve on the back and went back inside the house and refused to answer when Steve called after him.

He sighed and rubbed at his forehead and dropped his head back into his hands. 

He was just so _angry._

He could feel it, the anger, rushing through him, quickening his heart, stirring up a fire in his gut, roaring through his veins, blinding his gaze—

He wanted to punch something.

To stop himself from punching a hole in Clint’s house, Steve pushed to his feet and went to leave the porch. Maybe he’d go tear down a tree. Before he made it to the grass, however, long, cool fingers brushed over his shoulder.

Steve turned to look back. Loki smiled at him.

“A bit angry, are we?” Loki said softly, delicately running the tips of his fingers over the broadness of Steve’s shoulders. Steve grit his teeth, nodded, fisted his hands. “Perhaps...let Loki help.”

Because Steve was a fool, because he was a fool in love, because he’d follow Loki anywhere even when he knew better, he let Loki lead him back in the house, to his rooms.

The doors to Loki’s rooms creaked shut behind them.

Carefully, Loki pushed him to the bed, keeping his hands spread over Steve’s shoulders, thumb brushing over the pulsepoint on his neck. Green seidr slid over the two of them, clothes spooling off them, and Steve fisted his hands in Loki’s hair as the god elegantly went to his knees in front of him.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, his voice careful. “You don’t...know me.”

“I know enough,” Loki said simply, and opened his mouth.

Steve kept one hand in Loki’s hair as he slid his fingers along Loki’s jaw, sliding his thumb into Loki’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue. “You don’t remember,” Steve said quietly, a bit of a smile in his tone, “but you never said no, not to anything I asked. I watched this video…” He trailed off, watching saliva pool around Loki’s lower lip and then spill down his chin, dripping down his chest. Steve swallowed thickly. “Start talking.”

Steve pulled Loki to his feet and pushed him onto the bed. The god splayed out on his back, wet mouth curled in a slow, lascivious smile, legs open, cock half-hard on his thigh. “When I first met you,” Loki purred, “my first thought was, _My, isn’t that a handsome one._ Would you know, I was jealous of Clint for knowing you first. I’ve always been a jealous one.”

Steve slid onto the bed, straddling Loki’s hips, reaching up to pin his hands back to the bed. Loki leaned up, bit at his nipples, and Steve groaned, pressing into the touch. “Good boy,” he muttered. Loki whimpered, hips pulsing. “Don’t move. Your only job is to please me. Keep talking.”

Loki bit down harder, seidr slipping up his arms to keep his hands where Steve wanted them. Steve straightened back up, reaching behind himself to begin to open himself. Seidr slid over him, little mouths biting and licking at his nipples, long fingers sliding down his chest, brushing over his lips, sliding into his mouth. Seidr slickened his fingers inside himself, easing the way.

“So handsome,” Loki murmured, head screwed up, eyes locked on Steve’s cock and the barely seen fingers behind it. “So strong, so _powerful_.” Steve smirked down at him and then slid his slick fingers over Loki’s hardening cock, taking the heft of him in hand and running his thumb over the head. Loki whimpered and tried to not thrust his hips, licking his lips, mind racing for something to say. Steve leaned forward, brushing their mouths together, and Loki arched up to meet him, gasping out Steve’s name as Steve slid his cock inside his hole.

Steve sat up with a sigh of relief, Loki nestling deep inside him.

“You love me,” Loki breathed, a note of wonder in his voice. “You see me for who I am and you _love_ me.”

“As I have never loved before,” Steve promised, hips moving, groaning as Loki slid in and out, shaking with restraint. The anger still swarmed him, but it was easier to control.

Loki noticed, throwing his head back, and he gasped out, straining up against the seidr bonds, “Does my Captain not command me? Do I not quake at your touch? Do as you demand? Yet I still feel your restraint.” Steve reached forward, pressed his hands to Loki’s chest, pushed down until the breath was out of Loki’s lungs. “Oh yes,” he purred, barely audible, “I can’t be yours if you don’t _own_ me.”

Steve dug his nails into Loki’s skin, baring his teeth. “You told me once about being fucked in front of a mirror,” he ground out, and moved off Loki, cock sliding out from inside him, slapping wetly against Loki’s stomach, and Steve moved off the bed, yanking Loki down and flipping him over onto his stomach. Loki gasped out and widened his thighs, seidr wetting him for Steve, a mirror appearing next to the bed. Steve shoved inside, forcing Loki open, heavy, wide cock making a home for himself. “Look.”

Loki looked. Steve thrust inside him, sweaty and monstrous, a great hulking beast on top of him, all gleaming muscles and strong fingers digging in, nails bringing up blood. He was a weak, pitiful little thing, only good for Steve to fuck. His cock rasped against the curve of the bed, Steve shoving inside of him, and he—

With a whimper, Loki came, shuddering beneath Steve, tightening into a vice, and Steve growled at him, shoving deeper in him, teeth biting down on the back of Loki’s neck. 

Loki watched in the mirror as Steve owned him, gasping as his Captain’s cock pressed into his prostate, sending him twitching and gasping and quivering.

He wondered how many times they’d done this before, how many times his body had opened for Steve, how many times he’d been _known_ like this. It was good. Loki had been fucked time and time again, using his body for whatever scheme or plot or whatever goods he wanted, but he’d never been owned like this. 

“Good boy,” Steve murmured into his ear, and Loki gasped out Steve’s name as Steve shoved deep inside him one last time, filling him with come.

Seidr slid away from the two of them as Steve panted, carefully pulling out, and he rucked Loki’s hips up, pressing his thumb into Loki’s wet, twitching hole. “Close your eyes,” Steve said. “I just want you to _feel_. I’m going to lick you open, clean you out, then I’m going to fuck you again. No talking. You don’t remember me, but your body does. It knows that I _own_ you. Your seidr knows me, your heart knows me, your _soul_ knows me. Everything knows me.”

Loki gasped. Seidr filled his mouth so he couldn’t talk through it. He whined, pushing back against Steve’s mouth.

“So good for me,” Steve murmured, licking in, anger finally seeping away. He opened Loki’s hole with his thumbs, feeling the muscles quiver and then give way, seidr and his own spend flooding his mouth. Loki tried to whine but seidr slid down his throat, stretching and holding him open. Spit spilled out of his mouth, wetting the sheets beneath him, drenching his chin and sliding down the long length of his throat. Steve licked inside him, lips stretching around the quivering, stretched rim, Loki pushing back against him, and Steve slid a finger inside, smoothing over Loki’s prostate. 

Steve had always enjoyed sex. He wasn’t half bad at it, either. Never let any of his partners wanting. The best part had always been his partner’s pleasure, knowing he’d taken them apart like that, knowing he’d been the one to put that look on their face, that he’d been the one to bring them to orgasm. It’d never been bad with Loki, who was always so willing. What Steve had always enjoyed best, besides sliding his cock down Loki’s throat and choking him with it, was eating him out. He enjoyed the feeling of Loki’s insides on his tongue, the way his hips twisted and tried not to thrust, the way his rim stretched and welcomed him in. He always did enjoy taking care of Loki.

Just a moment later, Steve teased Loki’s rim with his teeth, then stretched up, pressed his mouth to Loki’s quivering shoulders, and took his cock in hand again. He was only half-hard, but it was enough. He set the wide, wet head against Loki’s hole and slowly, cautiously, eased his way back in. Now, with the anger gone, he just wanted to rest, keep Loki here for as long as the god would let him. One hand slid up, brushing over the small bulge of seidr in Loki’s throat. Steve pushed against it, smiling a bit at the gasp Loki tried to give out.

Steve reached around Loki’s waist with both arms and picked him up, arms straining, and held the god up against him as he waddled into Loki’s living room. Loki sagged back against him, head resting back against Steve’s shoulders, feet dragging on the floor, ass welcoming Steve’s cock as he sunk fully down on it. Steve grunted at the feeling, dropping the two of them onto the massive armchair, Loki breathing heavily through his nose, splayed out over his lap. 

“You’re going to sit there,” Steve told him, brushing Loki’s hair back from his face. “Good little cock warmer.” He prodded at the seidr in Loki’s mouth, gathered up some of the spit leaking from Loki’s lips, and spread it out over Loki’s cock, which jumped up into his hand. “Bring in a TV. Think there’s a game on.”

A TV appeared in front of them, already tuned to the channel with a baseball game. Steve pressed a kiss to Loki’s cheek, petting at his cock. 

Loki sunk down.

He couldn’t imagine wanting anything other than this. He couldn’t imagine being anything other than this, being anything other than good for Steve. He’d been pushing against this for so long, not realizing what he was missing. Their very _souls_ were tied together, and he thought he could break that? He thought he could push against it? Oh, more fool him. This was his place: wherever Steve wanted him. 

He moaned a bit and settled more deeply on Steve’s cock. Steve was only still half-hard, cock heavy on his prostate, just hard enough to keep from slipping out of him. Loki wiggled a bit, tightening around him, and Steve pinched him. 

“No moving,” Steve murmured, breath hot on his ear. Loki moaned around the seidr in his mouth, head falling back against Steve’s shoulder. “Stay still. Let me make you useful.”

Loki moaned again and fell still. Useful. Oh, he liked _that._

Awhile later, Loki covered in his own drool, seidr sliding ever slower down his throat, bulging out, cock hard and twitching on his stomach, when Steve slid out of him. Loki whined a bit, let Steve pick him up, bend him over the arm of the chair, and shove back inside him. Steve kept up a quick pace, cock hard and hot, relentless, chasing his own orgasm. It came quick, filling Loki up, come spilling out of his hole and sliding down his thighs as Steve pulled out.

Steve turned Loki over so that he was arched back over the arm of the chair, and used his own spend to lube up Loki’s cock, wrapping his hand around him and finally, finally, _finally_, letting him come. The seidr spilled from Loki’s mouth as he shouted, arching back, come spurting weakly over his stomach. Steve licked it up with a dark smile.

Loki caught his breath, sagging against the armchair. “You’re going to be a good husband,” he rasped, gasping past the ache in his throat. Steve pulled him up for a kiss, spilling Loki’s own spend back into his mouth, the two of them chasing the taste off each other’s tongues.

Steve pulled away first. “I want to give you a bath,” he breathed against Loki’s mouth. 

Loki held out his hand, Steve pulling him to his feet. Loki smiled down at him. “I suppose I cannot turn down such a kind offer,” Loki mused, and the two of them helped each other to the bathroom. Loki waved his hand, the bathtub turning on, filling the room with steam. Steve helped Loki slide in, Loki letting out a decadent, loud moan as the heat swarmed his muscles, and after pouring in a few of the potions and crystals from the various crystal vials next to the tub, Steve joined him, hissing at the heat.

“Is this too hot?” Steve asked, breaking a crystal and rubbing the soap into Loki’s skin. His nails caught on the shredding glamour and Loki’s eyes slid open, shooting him a lazy, contented smile.

“No, my Captain,” Loki murmured, stretching. “It has always been a bit of a burn, but I enjoy it.” He pushed his head under the water so Steve could wash his hair. The water cleared the haze of submission from his mind and his thoughts began to pick up pace again.

He understood now.

As if he’d been summoned, Clint poked his head in. “Finally,” he grumbled. “Jesus Christ. Anyway, you ready?”

“Ready?” Steve echoed as Loki rolled his eyes. He poured water over Loki’s hair, rinsing the shampoo out. 

“Yeah. Sam and Buck are coming here. Called in Nat, Bruce, King Balder, King T’Challa, everyone I could think of.”

Steve frowned up at the archer, genuinely confused. 

“Thanos,” Loki said quietly. “We must rise up.”

Right. Thanos.

Steve looked back at Loki, who handed him a washcloth and turned his back to him. With a sigh, he washed Loki’s back for him while Clint prattled on in the background.

“We have to keep everyone updated. Easier to do it all at once, I figured. Then you two can go into seclusion, get married, and then we’ll do the whole big battle thing. Good times. Anyway, finish up in here, you two.” Steve nodded and Clint awkwardly cleared his throat. “I’m, uh, glad to see you two back together. Weird sex and all.”

Loki slammed the bathroom door in Clint’s face with a wave of his hand, the archer yelping in surprise and probably pain. Loki gave Steve a small smile. “None of them will be arriving for a while yet. We can enjoy our reconciliation for a bit longer.”

Steve nodded and slid his arms over Loki’s shoulders, holding him close. “I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Loki’s cheek. “You don’t have to say it back. I just need you to know, to believe it.”

Loki stiffened for a moment and then leaned back into the Captain. Strangely enough, he did believe him.

* * *

“Little Clint!” Balder boomed. “Your home is very small!” He dropped Stormbreaker onto the kitchen table and set his hands on his hips as he looked around. “Loki lives here, does he? In this squalor?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t call my home squalor,” Laura snipped at him from where she was digging through the fridge. “Loki made his own rooms, just over in the next room.” She grabbed some leftovers for the kids and straightened up, kicking the fridge door closed. “Doors are just over there. Not sure they’ll let you in.”

“I am his King,” Balder boasted, helping Laura carry the food to the counter. He was rather good at trying to be helpful and just getting in the way instead. “There should be nowhere closed to me.” With that, he left the kitchen and sought out Loki’s rooms. After glancing around the living room and unintentionally scaring the kids, and then they explained the fascinating TV to him, Lila happily showed him the huge, ornately carved doors to Loki’s rooms.

As Laura had predicted, they didn’t open. Balder frowned. He should’ve known better than for Loki to do anything he was supposed to do. Instead, the King of Asgard, the wielder of Stormbreaker, the High Seat of the Nine Realms, the Brave and the Beautiful, knocked meekly on Loki’s doors.

A minute later, one of the doors creaked open and Clint’s head poked out. He grinned at seeing Balder and pushed the door fully open, waving him in. “King!” Clint greeted, letting out a squeak when Balder grabbed him and held him up in a hug. Balder dropped him and walked into Loki’s rooms.

Oh, this was more like it. Huge, expensive, and over the top. Just Loki’s style. The room was decorated with expensive jewels and baubles and trinkets, which reminded Balder. He picked up a small bag off his belt and opened it, pouring out a long, coiled chain into his palm.

Clint led him to the living room, where Loki and Steve were lounging together on the couch, Loki’s head on Steve’s lap, Steve slowly and carefully brushing Loki’s hair. They were both dressed casually in sweats and t-shirts, with Steve wearing black and blue, and Loki in purple and green. Loki noticed him first and gave him a casual wave. The glamour was shredding even further, blue skin showing through, and one of his eyes was red. Balder smiled broadly at him.

“Brother,” he greeted, his voice low and warm. “How good of you to join us.”

Clint pointed out an armchair, which Balder dropped in, holding out the gold chain. Clint sighed at Loki’s hand wave and took it, bringing it the few steps over to the couch, where Loki took the chain and held it up to the light. On closer inspection, it was not a chain, but a gold, inanimate snake. “Beautiful,” Loki murmured, slipping the necklace through his fingers. “Is this your apology?”

Balder let out a great sigh. He looked around for something to drink and made a motion at Clint, who quickly left the room to get something for him. “Thanos took his leave soon after you. I managed to bring down Stormbreaker upon him, but he seemed unbothered by the injury and vanished. Heimdall and I spoke to the actual Those Who Sit Above. They had no care of Thor’s death. Even the hanging cage was not the habit of Omnipotence City. The understanding is Thanos used the Reality Stone from the very moment your boots touched down. The Lord Librarian had no recollection of speaking with you, either, Loki.”

Loki nodded at that. Just as he’d suspected.

Clint brought back mead for the three of them in heavy, ornate chalices. Steve waved his away and Loki sat up, waving Clint to sit on the couch. Steve slid his arm over Loki’s shoulders as the god admired the gold snake as he thought. Clint held both his and Loki’s cups as Balder slugged back half of his chalice and then gave out a loud, approving burp. 

“How are we supposed to combat the Reality Stone?” Steve finally asked. 

Balder frowned. “It is meant to be impossible,” he said, almost sadly. “The Stone shapes reality. You cannot see through it, because there is no mirage or illusion. It is reality that has changed, not something on top of it.”

Loki frowned as he thought, mismatched eyes blinking slowly. He turned his attention to Clint, who handed him the chalice. “What information do we have on Jotun?” he asked Clint, who frowned at him, trying to follow his train of thought.

“Not much,” Clint replied slowly. “You tried to avoid all information after you found out the truth. But we know about the eyes, for one. And the fish thing, too. That’s a Jotun thing.”

“The eyes?” Balder asked.

At the same time, Steve snorted. “Wait, your obsession with sushi is a Jotun thing?” He shook his head. “I’d just figured there wasn’t fish on Asgard or something.”

“There isn’t,” Loki replied tightly. “But yes, my _affection_ for fish comes from my Jotun heritage.” He stiffly slid out from under Steve’s arm, leaning forward to spill the gold snake over the coffee table. With a bit of seidr, it became animated, moving in a slow circle, head chasing the tail. Balder leaned close, curious. “My...peculiar heritage gives me a unique perspective. From what little I do know of Jotun, I know this: their eyesight is very different than Aesir or human. I can see the thermal imaging of any creature.” Loki held out his hand and the golden snake slithered up his fingers and curled around his arm. Loki held it up, a bit of a smile on his face. “Thanos can shape reality. But he cannot _create_. He can only change what is already there, be it conjuring up memory or laying an illusion. But what is real is still underneath.”

“Life creates heat,” Clint finished. “What's made by the Reality Stone won’t have that.”

Balder blinked at them and then slowly, he smiled. He lifted his chalice. “One day,” he crowed, “there will be a problem Loki Odinson cannot solve. Until that day, you are the best of us.”

They toasted their chalices and drank deeply, Loki sharing his chalice with Steve. Loki leaned in and kissed the mead out of Steve’s mouth, Clint and Balder sharing a roll of the eyes.

* * *

Their various compatriots were milling around Clint’s front yard, eating and talking and catching up. Loki and Clint hung back, sitting on the porch steps, sharing a plate and a glass of sweet tea, watching as various people introduced themselves and got to know each other. They were both dressed in fancy-casual Asgardian wear, with high collars and gold scrollwork. Loki’s feet were bare and his sleeves did not cover his wrists, both signs of hospitality. Clint wore boots and had the ruby-hilted dagger on his belt, as well as his bow and quiver within easy reach. His clothes were a bit more rugged than Loki’s, as was to be expected by their ranks. Loki was dressed all in light green, while Clint had chosen a royal purple tunic and black pants. Loki hadn’t managed to fix the glamour quite yet, so Jotun blue was still peeking through, his mismatched eyes flashing in the light. 

There were two huge tables piled with food and drink, supplied by both T’Challa and Balder, who seemed determined to outdo each other. Various Einherjar and Dora Milaje were staggered around the gathering, some of them talking with each other, the personal guards following their respective Kings around. Steve was with Sam, Bucky, and Natasha, the four of them catching up. 

_Seems that we are only missing Stephen,_ Loki mused, taking a sip of tea and making a face at it. _Pity he is not even at Kamar-Taj yet._

Clint shrugged. _He’ll join us in time._ He took the glass from Loki and handed him a bit of stew on flatbread. He’d had a great time enjoying Wakandan foods and had gathered up a huge variety when T’Challa had laid out his share of the food._ Don’t worry about it._ He sent Loki a sidelong look. _How’s it going with Cap?_

Loki sighed, nibbling on the food. _He is very good to me,_ he mused, mismatched eyes quickly finding Steve in the small crowd of people. _I keep expecting to remember our time together, for it to all come back. But it does not._

_Probably never will,_ Clint replied with a shrug. _Once you’re bonded with him, you’ll have his memories anyway, and you can just extrapolate from there._ He finished off the tea and held out the glass so Loki could fill it back up. The glass swirled full again and Clint nodded his thanks. _You figured out what bonds you want, anyway?_

_Oh, the usual,_ Loki said, taking the next bite of food that Clint held out for him. _Heart bond, thought-sharing, the like. From what I can understand, he has been mostly jealous of our connection, and would like something similar._ He gave a bit of a shrug. _Nothing too difficult for me to give him._

Clint snorted. _Still can’t believe the geezer is jealous over_ me.

Loki held out his hand and the gold snake slid down his arm, curling up in the palm of his hand and then slipping down his fingers. It curled in a circle in the grass, head chasing the tail. The two of them watched it for a minute, identical frowns on their faces. 

_Why’d he bring you that, anyway?_

Loki sighed. A tendril of seidr lifted the snake out of the grass and it slid over Clint’s shoulders, curling a few times around his throat and going still. _It is customary for a King to bring gifts to his closest constituents. Thor did the same for me. This snake, however—_Loki reached out a hand and brushed his fingers over it, fingers brushing over Clint’s skin—_was an apology. It is his duty to protect me, and he did not. I was violated in front of him. I expect this is only the first part of his gift. He also owes me from killing Thor and giving him the throne._

Clint nodded, attention diverting to T’Challa as the King walked over to them, Okoye a step behind him. Shuri was speaking with the Asgardian seidrmadrs in the crowd, and she’d been slowly trying to come closer to the two of them, but she hadn’t been able to pull herself away quite yet.

The two of them pushed to their feet, inclining their heads to T’Challa, who crossed his wrists over his chest in the traditional Wakanda greeting. Clint copied him. T’Challa held out his hand for Loki, and the two of them clasped the other’s wrist, pumping once before releasing. 

“King T’Challa,” Loki greeted, his voice low and lazy. “I welcome you to this bit of Asgard. I trust your journey was pleasant.” He inclined his head to Okoye but did not speak to her. “I hear your scientists have been busy.”

T’Challa nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. “Bucky showed us the portal you set up. Shuri spent days examining it to see how it worked. She wishes to speak with you.” He glanced at Clint and then stepped back, motioning towards the fields. “May we take a walk?”

“Of course,” Loki said with a slow smile, baring too-sharp teeth.

T’Challa offered his arm, and Loki took it, nestling his hand in T’Challa’s elbow as he walked alongside the King. Behind them, Clint picked up his bow and quiver, abandoning the plate and the glass, he and Okoye moving in tandem behind their respective royalty. Clint sent her a smile and her eyes crinkled at him. 

“I was very saddened to learn of Thanos’s attempt on your life,” T’Challa said, once they were a distance away from the small party. “I can only offer apologies that you suffered such.” He swallowed. “Wakanda asks to join the fight.”

Loki sent him an askance glance. “I was under the impression you had already joined it,” he said slowly. “Is that not why you are here? That you know of Thanos in the first place?”

T’Challa sighed with relief. “Very well. We had correspondence from Tony Stark, who seemed convinced otherwise.”

Loki stopped walking, frowning. T’Challa stopped next to him, looking up at the god with a frown. “Tony Stark,” Loki mused. “How interesting.” He thought for another few moments and then flashed T’Challa a smile. “Do not worry about that _pest_. I will...remedy the situation. Now, King, surely there is something other than that you wished to ask me.” Loki sent him a coy look as they began moving again. 

“My mother asks for your archer,” T’Challa said finally, stepping back from Loki as the god immediately detangled himself from T’Challa and spun on him. “Only temporarily. A week or two at most.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, narrowing mismatched eyes. “I would be very careful with your words,” he warned, his voice low. “Tell me why.”

T’Challa uncomfortably cleared his throat. “She would not say. Only that she had a question for him.”

Clint frowned when Loki turned his attention to him. “Not sure, boss,” he said with a shrug. “She asked me some stuff, nothing that I didn’t answer.”

Loki pursed his lips. “Tell your mother that she may come here if she wishes to question him. Tell her also that I do not take kindly to others attempting to take my possessions.” With that, he swept away, hands clasped behind his back. Clint gave the two of them a helpless shrug and then hurried after him.

Loki shot him a dark glance once Clint had caught up with him. _You have much to explain,_ Loki hissed. The snake around Clint's neck tightened just enough to be noticeable. _Whatever you are hiding, you have until the end of this...party to figure out how to tell me. I am thoroughly displeased. I believed you better trained than this._

With that, Loki got himself a plate and picked through the table of offerings from Asgard. Balder had gotten an entire fish from Jotunheim and Loki took the whole thing, plate floating behind him as he joined Steve, Bucky, Nat, and Sam on the edge of the party. His seidr deboned and cleaned the fish and Loki ignored Clint as he fed himself.

Nat disengaged from the small group and joined him, lightly hip-checking him.

Clint tore his eyes away from Loki and looked at her, barely stopping himself from hugging her. He grinned. “How’s Stark?”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Says he’s retired, still comes into the non-profit once or twice a week. It’s just me and Bruce now, along with a few kids that want to be Avengers. Spider-man, Kate Bishop, few others. Oh, Fury and Coulson, too. Thought I’d gotten rid of those two, but they keep coming around.”

“Kate Bishop,” Clint repeated with a frown. “I know that name.”

Nat nodded. “She sent you a letter, asked you if she could be Hawkeye. Don’t think you ever responded, so she’s the new Hawkeye.”

“New Hawkeye!” Clint squawked. “She can’t just—that’s my thing!”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Not anymore. You retired.”

Clint glared at her and pulled out his phone. “Give me her number. I’m gonna talk to her.”

“You’re not gonna bully a kid,” Nat replied placidly, an amused smile curling up her mouth. “She’s Hawkeye now. You’ve made it clear that you have bigger priorities.” She looked pointedly at Loki, who was pointedly ignoring them.

Clint glowered at her but put his phone away. “How’s Bruce?” he asked, sliding deep innuendo into his voice. That’d teach her for letting some _kid_ replace him. Him, of all people! 

Natasha shrugged a bit, tossed her hair over her shoulder. “He’s been spending most of his time at the New York Sanctum, working with their sorcerers.” She shifted, clearly uncomfortable. Clint raised his eyebrows and looked at her. “I’d thought...I thought there was _something._”

“Between the two of you?” Clint clarified, and she nodded. “Did you ask him?”

“I tried to kiss him,” she muttered lowly, turning her head so that only he could see her mouth. “He told me he was _too busy_.”

Clint’s mouth fell open in shock.

“So there’s nothing there,” she grumbled, stepping past him to pick up a cup of Asgardian wine. She slugged back half the cup and shuddered. “I thought he was different.”

“So did I,” Clint mumbled, almost in shock. “I thought he loved you. Or at least liked you a lot. He give a reason?”

Nat shook her head. “Just too busy. So I guess I’m done with _that,_” she spat. Clint awkwardly reached out and patted her on the shoulder. She leaned into the touch for a moment and then shook him off. “Avengers has kept me busy, anyway. I would’ve made time for him, you know.” She trailed off with a frown.

Clint carefully took the cup of wine out of her hand and replaced it with a glass of tea. They didn’t need Natasha going on a murderous rampage or anything tonight. Maybe once everyone left, but they had more important things to focus on, sadly. 

She came back to herself and motioned to the woman who was shadowing Balder and refusing to talk with anyone besides Loki or Steve. “She’s the only one I don’t recognize.”

Clint sighed. “She’s a Valkyrie. Balder found her on some far off planet. He managed to get her to come back to Asgard and have her retake the mantle. Apparently, she’s the only one that survived Hela’s attack. Balder told me he wants her to be Steve’s bodyguard.”

Natasha shot him an amused look. “How’d Steve take that?”

He sighed again, because the situation really deserved it. “Haven’t told him yet. Her name’s Brunnhilde. Everyone calls her Valkyrie, though.”

Natasha tugged at his hand. “Let’s go talk to her.”

Great.

Clint let himself be dragged over to Valkyrie and Balder, who immediately grabbed him up in a hug and lifted him off the ground. “Little Clint!” Balder boomed, and then he smiled at Natasha. “Is this your wife?”

Clint rubbed at his brow and took a sip of Asgardian wine. “You’ve _met_ Laura,” he grumbled. Balder said something about all humans looking the same, which had Clint rolling his eyes. “This is my friend, Natasha. She runs the Avengers.” Natasha held out her hand. “Natasha, meet the King of Asgard, Balder the Brave.” 

Balder hugged her, because of course he did. If it was literally anyone else in the galaxy, she would’ve stabbed them. As it was, she managed to stop herself.

Valkyrie looked thoroughly amused and stepped up next to Balder when he finally put Natasha down. “He tends to do that,” she drawled, and held out her hand in the Midgardian style. “I’m not a hugger. Brunnhilde, well to meet.”

Natasha smoothly slid her fingers in Valkyrie’s and gave her a slow smile. “Natasha.”

Clint and Balder exchanged amused glances when the hand-shaking went on for too long, and Natasha and Valkyrie soon engaged themselves in conversation. Balder pulled Clint away, poking at the snake around his neck. “Does our Prince keep all of his humans adorned as such?” Balder asked, taking the cup out of Clint’s hand and drinking down the rest of the wine. He belched and Clint stopped himself from rolling his eyes. 

“He doesn’t have any other humans,” Clint replied simply. “It’s just me.”

Balder made an interested noise as he picked through the table of Wakandan foods. “I see the bonds,” he said simply, motioning vaguely in the direction of Loki and Steve and Sam and Bucky. “They are all very attached to him.”

“Sure,” Clint agreed. “But none of them are his.”

Balder straightened and turned, narrowing his eyes at Loki, who immediately sensed his gaze and turned his head to raise an eyebrow at Balder. “You do not lie,” Balder said with a note of surprise. This time, Clint did roll his eyes. “You are the only human bonded to him.” He turned back to the table and gave Clint a heavy wink. “Besides the Captain, of course, but that’s not official yet. Have they begun seclusion yet?”

Clint motioned with both hands to the people around them.

Balder threw his head back and let out a booming laugh. “Ha! No, of course not! You are very funny, little human. Perhaps soon, then. Do they still wish for me to marry them?” He furrowed his brow.

Clint shrugged one shoulder. “Probably. Loki hasn’t mentioned anyone else.”

Balder beamed at him. “I am glad to hear it!”

With that, Balder gathered up a huge plate of food and hurried off to eat it in peace. Clint sighed and got two drinks, taking them over to Loki, who took one and gave it to Steve. They shared the other cup.

Bucky and Sam both greeted him with a thump on the back. “We’ve missed you in Wakanda,” Sam said with a grin.

“Aw, you don’t gotta lie to me,” Clint grinned back. “You an’ your boy have clearly been plenty busy.”

Sam threw his head back and laughed while Bucky stammered and blushed. Loki rolled his eyes at the lot of them and put his hand on the back of Clint’s neck. He turned away from them and found Shuri in the crowd, dragging Clint with him. Clint gave the three of them a helpless wave as he stumbled behind Loki. “Distract the horrible seidrmadrs,” Loki hissed to him. “I will speak with the princess.”

Clint nodded and gulped down the rest of the wine, hissing as it burned his throat. Loki vanished the glass as they stepped up to the small group. Alverus, Nidi, and Kvistr all turned towards them and gave Loki a bow. Shuri greeted them by crossing her wrists over her chest.

“Princess,” Loki greeted smoothly, and escorted her away, already asking her about her how far along she was on helping Bucky and and she explained how she and Sam were trying to keep him out of cryostasis but it felt to be a losing battle. 

Clint smiled uneasily at the seidrmadrs. His was a strange situation on Asgard. Given that he belonged to Loki, he was afforded some respect, but he was also Midgardian, and most of them really regarded him as no more than a particularly intelligent pet. He’d gotten some acclaim during his time on Asgard when Loki had been in a coma, but these three had never liked him.

He greeted them each in turn, as was proper. One good thing about being Loki’s was that none of the Aesir ever touched him, besides Balder, who was probably the only one that Loki wouldn’t stab for touching him. They all bowed shallowly to him and gave him large, fake smiles.

“We hear you met the Mad Titan,” Alverus said stiffly. “We hear the Prince did not meet him in battle and ran instead.”

“Was he has ferocious as they say?” Kvistr queried. 

Clint shot them an amused look. “Far more ferocious,” he informed them. “I’d advise you not to judge him on _running_ until you yourselves meet Thanos in battle.” The three of them shifted uncomfortably. They weren’t the type to go to battle. The rumor was that the Aesir who became seidrmadrs did so out of a fear of battle, even if they never admitted it out loud, and it was occasionally true. These three, especially, hid back in Asgard and kept to their research and their spells and their books. No wonder they took such joy in harassing Loki, who was a great warrior in his own right. “How do your current occupations suit you?”

The three of them exchanged glances. “The Midgardian country of Wakanda is the most advanced of the realm,” Nidi informed him, like Clint had never been there. “It is still millenium behind Asgard, as to be expected, but not...painfully so.” He waved a hand. “The King has been very accommodating.”

Clint nodded. “Good to hear,” he replied awkwardly, and turned his head to see Loki and Shuri still huddled together. He sighed. “What are you working on?”

“The one-armed human has been violated,” Nidi informed him, his tone low and severe. “We have seen little like it. His mind was continually scrubbed of any semblance of self, and he has clawed his way back, but he is very…”

“Fractured,” Alverus finished, and the three of them nodded in agreement. 

With that, of course, because something always had to go wrong, someone screamed. Clint had slid his bow down his arm and nocked an arrow, spinning around, before he’d even consciously registered the noise. It was one of the Einherjar, a knife sticking out of their throat. The Dora Milaje were fighting, as were the Einherjar, and Clint looked frantically around for Loki, ducking away from the seidrmadrs towards him. He was on the far side of the small party, mismatched eyes wide at seeing one of the Einherjar dead on the ground. 

Clint ran to him, pulling him away from Shuri, who was quickly surrounded by Dora Milaje, even as she pushed buttons on her kimoyo beads, strange lights darting across the field and causing the masked invaders to screech in pain. Loki plucked the ruby-hilted dagger from Clint’s belt and bared his teeth. 

_Who are they?_ he hissed, narrowing his mismatched eyes, sending bolts of seidr across the field. _They seem...human?_

Clint nodded, firing arrows at them. They were dressed in combat gear, with heavy body armor, and his arrows seemed to be either bouncing off or being easily deflected. The invaders didn’t seem focused on any specific member of the party and just seemed intent on causing the most harm. Clint and Loki stayed on the far side of the party, assured that Steve and Sam and Bucky could take care of themselves. 

Another swarm of soldiers crested the hill, coming through the woods and storming them. These ones doubled the number and were even more heavily armed, firing bullets without abandon, causing Loki to bark out for wards to be raised, and Alverus and Nidi raised seidr shields, rushing forward to shield the humans. Clint glanced to see Natasha and Valkyrie fighting back to back, each holding their own, and next to them, Balder was taking down swaths of soldiers with Stormbreaker, tossing them back. Steve had Mjolnir in his hand, and Sam had a knife, and Bucky had—

Bucky. 

Bucky was gone. 

Clint lowered his bow, looking around wildly. Loki noticed what he was doing a moment later and his eyes tracked the field quickly, coming to the same realization just a few seconds later. “Bucky!” Loki cried out, jumping up into the air to get a better view. His eyes narrowed at the woods and then he darted off, Clint bolting after him.

Whoever they were, they were fast. They’d gotten to Bucky without anyone realizing, dragged him away without him raising a fuss, and they were deep in the woods by the time Loki and Clint noticed. They both could hear screams, Bucky’s deep voice begging, and Clint grit his teeth, hearing Loki’s snarl of rage.

Green seidr lit up the forest as they both entered a small clearing, where Bucky was being held down, some masked soldier reading off a small scrap of paper. Loki roared, fire erupting from his hands, setting Clint’s arrows on fire as they unerringly found their targets, the soldiers all falling down dead. 

The soldier with the scrap of paper said one last word the moment before he died.

Bucky stopped screaming.

He turned his head and stared, unseeingly, at the two of them.

_Is he activated?_ Clint asked breathlessly.

A green tendril reached out for him.

“Soldat?” Loki asked, bare feet landing gently on the grass. Clint stepped up next to him, arrow aimed at Bucky.

“Ready to comply,” Bucky answered in Russian. Clint swore under his breath.

Loki nodded. “Come here,” he demanded, and Bucky staggered to his feet, forcing himself to walk straight towards them. He stopped right where Loki pointed him. “Do you know me?”

Bucky blinked at him, clearly not understanding. The Winter Soldier must only understand Russian then. Fuck. Clint shrugged helplessly when Loki glanced at him. Natasha was the only one who—

_Natasha._ Loki nodded and Clint turned, sprinting back towards the party.

Loki had the Allspeech, which would work well enough. He could manage. He glanced over the Winter Soldier, who stared straight ahead, no emotion on his face. He shook away the thought of how strange that was to see. “What are your parameters for capture?” he questioned in Russian. The Winter Soldier barely blinked.

“To return to a safehouse and stay until my commanding officer has been in contact,” the Winter Soldier repeated dutifully. “If there is no escape, I am to self destruct by any means necessary.”

“Is that so,” Loki murmured, tapping his chin. The Winter Soldier did not respond. “What are the parameters of no escape?”

The Winter Soldier frowned, but only for a second. “If there is no way out,” he said finally, voice stiff, the strange language rough on his tongue. 

“Very well. Your mission is to be my bodyguard. There are masked soldiers that must be eliminated. I assume I do not have to ask you if you understand.” Loki kicked over one of the soldiers and pulled the mask off their face, transforming it into a muzzle and tossing it over to the Winter Soldier, who immediately put it on, throwing his missing arm a strange look when it wasn’t there. But he managed to get the muzzle on and gave Loki a dark look as Loki glanced around the clearing one last time. He quickly summoned the piece of paper and glanced over it, heart sinking at seeing Bucky’s activation words scrawled so darkly across it.

Loki sighed and turned to go, the Winter Soldier shadowing behind him. His mind raced as they entered the forest.

_We’re on our way. You got him?_

Loki sent Clint a mental image of the Winter Soldier putting on the mask. Clint swore. _He seems amenable enough,_ Loki murmured, glancing over his shoulder. _I believe his training will soon take over. If he is taken by surprise, I believe he will attempt to self-destruct. So be cautious._

The two of them walked through the forest, quietly and without fuss. 

While Loki had never seen the Winter Soldier truly activated, he had seen Bucky when he’d _slip_. It was more like the Winter Soldier was a personality hovering in the back of his mind, waiting to take over at the slightest provocation. They’d done the math, once, and while Bucky was around 100 years old, he’d been frozen for a good deal of that time. Surely he’d been more Winter Soldier than he’d ever been Bucky.

_We caught one of the bastards. Won’t say where he’s from or who sent him. The seidrmadrs are working him over now._

_Good._

Bucky never fully sunk down, but he’d get in moods where he only responded positively to direct orders or where he’d clearly expect physical punishment and would be seemingly lost without it. He’d lived a very long time with his entire existence being painful and often seemed unable to function without it. It was similar to how he would often need direct and firm orders to be able to process life. Loki wondered how Sam was dealing with that, if it was something he was comfortable doing. 

Perhaps he’d go to Wakanda. Especially after this. Whatever happened, Loki did not see it ending well.

Clint and Natasha were waiting for them at the edge of the forest, just the two of them. Loki glanced around to see that everyone in the party had been hurried to the far side of the house, with the Dora Milaje and the Einherjar standing guard in between. The seidrmadrs were near the two overturned tables, seidr pinning the surviving soldier to the ground. A moment later, they killed him. Loki nodded approvingly. Good. Wasn’t as if they would get any useful information out of the bastard anyway.

Clint barely glanced over the Winter Soldier and greeted Loki with a hand on his arm. The snake around his neck caught the light and all of them saw the way the Winter Soldier frowned at it. It was just a moment, and then the Winter Soldier went completely blank again.

Loki caught Natasha’s gaze and shook his head, stepping in between her and the Winter Soldier. “Are there any left?” he asked of her, looking down his nose at her. Natasha shook her head as well. 

“It was over quick, sir,” she informed him, as if he was a Captain and she a warrior on his arm. Loki nodded. “Whatever they were here for, they did not find it.”

“Very well,” Loki murmured. “Gather a few warriors, spread out through the woods. See what you can find.” He jerked with his head towards the woods behind the Winter Soldier, indicating that she should stay behind him, keep an eye on him. Even with one arm, the Winter Soldier was a deadly weapon, and Loki had no qualms about wanting every single side of the soldier being watched by his comrades. Natasha nodded and whistled. A moment later, a few of the Einherjar and Valkyrie all jogged over to her, and she muttered something to them, the five of them dispersing into the woods just a few moments later. 

He turned his attention to Clint, who had his whole attention on the Winter Soldier even though he wasn’t looking at him. Loki casually handed back the ruby-hilted dagger, motioning towards the Winter Soldier with a slow wave of his hand. “I have enough of a weapon in him,” Loki said with a smirk. He looked around the field, eyes falling on the dead Einherjar. 

Balder broke off from the group and moved around the guards, some of the Einherjar following, and he met Loki and Clint at the body of the dead. Loki knelt down next to the fallen warrior and carefully rested his hand over the Einherjar’s eyes, closing them. Balder murmured a prayer to the Norns and helped Loki to his feet, pushing them all back as he called for Heimdall to take the body away. 

The Winter Soldier jumped as the Bifrost activated. Not much, but enough to be noticeable to anyone looking for it. Clint and Loki exchanged glances but didn’t say anything. Balder clapped Loki on the shoulder and gave him a searching look. 

“Be he your friend or nay,” Balder said slowly, in old Asgardian tongue, “if he attacks you, there will be no compunction in killing him.”

Loki smiled up at him, baring sharp teeth. “He isn’t going to attack me,” he said simply, in English, tilting his head at the Winter Soldier. “He’s going to attack Clint.”

“The same decree applies to Clint as well—” Balder began, but before he could finish his sentence, the Winter Soldier lunged, swiping Clint’s legs out from underneath him, dodging an arrow to the eye. Clint clawed at him, dislodging the muzzle, and it fell to the ground as the Winter Soldier tried to wrap his arm around Clint’s throat. 

Loki tutted disapprovingly and wrapped the Winter Soldier in seidr, immobilizing him. He tried to thrash out of it but Loki merely wrapped him tighter. Once he was thoroughly unable to move, Loki moved past him and smacked Balder’s hands away from Clint, gingerly helping the archer to his feet. Loki brushed Clint’s clothes off and rubbed the dirt out of his hair and set the snake around his neck to rights, frowning lightly. 

They both noticed the missing dagger at the exact same time. 

They turned as one, seidr swarming around Loki’s hands, Clint picking up his bow and an arrow and pointing it at the Winter Soldier’s face right as he slashed through the last of the seidr. Dark eyes glanced over them and with a snarl, the Soldier stabbed himself in the thigh. 

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” Loki grumbled, and with a wave of his hand, knocked the Winter Soldier unconscious. 

“Should’ve done that a while ago,” Clint admonished lightly, not managing to duck the swat Loki landed on the back of his head. He leaned down and yanked the ruby-hilted dagger out of Bucky’s thigh, Loki quickly pouring in a healing potion. He grimaced and wiped the blood off on Bucky’s pants. “Guess we’re lucky he didn’t try to slice his own throat,” Clint noted with a shrug. Loki nodded, laying Bucky flat on the grass and sending tendrils of seidr over him. 

They were soon joined by Steve and Sam, everyone else hovering around them. Sam grabbed Bucky’s hand and brushed his messy hair off his face. Shuri scanned him with her kimoyo beads and frowned at the results, looking more and more exhausted. 

Steve sighed and shook his head. He sat back and criss-crossed his legs, glancing over Clint. They’d all seen the way Bucky had taken him down, the way he’d slammed into the ground. But only Steve had felt Loki’s brief, sharp moment of fear, just for a second, biting away at his chest. 

Loki’s seidr finished running over Bucky and he pushed to his feet, giving him a last glance over before levitating the unconscious soldier off the ground. Sam scrambled to his feet, keeping his hand wrapped around Bucky’s. Steve and Clint helped each other up and the silent group around them parted so that Loki could lead them back to the house. 

It was Balder and Nat who both decided that everyone would go home and reconvene in a week. Heimdal activated the Bifrost to take everyone home, and soon, only Natasha, Valkyrie, and Balder were left standing outside, along with the various Einherjar Balder had elected to stay. 

Balder waved his hands and the bodies of the soldiers all vanished into dust. “Can you find out who sent them?” he asked Natasha, turning to her. She didn’t hesitate at all, nodding. 

“It might take some time,” she hedged, “But I’ll find out who hurt him.”

“If it pleases the King,” Valkyrie began, but Balder waved her off, already turning back towards the house. 

“Stay here, Valkyrie.” Balder went on to mention something about battles on Midgard, but Brunnhilde and Natasha only had eyes and ears for each other.

* * *

* * *

“That’s interesting,” Loki said, even though it wasn’t. 

He was looking at a scroll Clint was holding out for him. It contained the information his seidr had pulled from Bucky after he’d knocked the poor fellow unconscious, and there was little in it that Loki didn’t already know.

They’d been at it for almost the entire night. Bucky was still unconscious, laying on a hastily conjured stretcher in front of the couch. Sam was sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep. Steve had gone to bed hours ago, and Natasha and Valkyrie had joined them, the three of them curled together in the huge expanse of Loki’s bed. Balder had gone back to Asgard after making a nuisance of himself for an hour. 

Shuri had been in contact with them all night, and Loki had been thoroughly enjoying bouncing ideas off her. She was a delight, and certainly one of the smartest Midgardians he’d met, not that that was a difficult bar to reach. She’d chased the seidrmadrs out of her lab hours ago, which had immediately put her in Loki’s good graces. However, she’d gone to bed an hour ago, after T’Challa had gotten up in the middle of the night to find her still awake and ordered her to bed. 

Clint yawned. 

Loki sighed. He waved for Clint to put the scroll down and turned to look at Bucky. 

To both of their surprise, he was awake, wide blue eyes locked on Sam’s sleeping face. 

“Oh, hello,” Loki purred, smiling slowly and darkly. “So kind of you to join us.” He summoned his armchair closer and settled back in it, Clint perching on the arm. 

“Did I hurt anyone?” Bucky whispered. “Did I hurt him?”

“Naw,” Clint replied. “Just yourself. You stole my dagger and stabbed yourself.”

Bucky finally dragged his eyes away from Sam’s face and he pushed himself up with his arm, looking down at his bare thighs, one of them heavily bandaged. 

“You are lucky you were given a similar serum as Steve,” Loki informed him, pinching at Clint’s side until he lifted up his shirt and showed off the ruby-hilted dagger. “Even a cut from this blade can kill a normal human.” Clint nodded and dropped his shirt. 

“And you stabbed yourself,” Clint told him. “Even with advanced healing, it’ll take awhile. Loki put in some healing potions, but all that did was burn away the spells from the dagger.” Clint gave a little shrug. “Few days, I’m assuming.”

Bucky looked completely wrecked. 

Loki watched him for a long, quiet minute. “Clint, go check on Steve.”

Clint shrugged at the two of them and got up, sauntering into the bedroom. 

Loki double checked that Sam was asleep and then looked at Bucky again. “Would you like to know what I found?”

Bucky didn’t say anything. 

“Oh, very well. Shuri and I have been discussing various methods to heal you all night. Her poor brother finally demanded she rest.” Loki sat back in his chair, clasped his hands casually in his lap, and crossed one leg over the other. “Now, when did you activate the tracking beacon? Do be as specific as you can.”

Bucky slowly looked up from the bandages on his leg to meet Loki’s gaze. He sighed. “A few months ago. I had a nightmare.” His voice was barely audible. Loki leaned in a bit to hear him. “I woke up, didn’t recognize Sam, didn’t know where I was, just knew I’d been captured and that I had to escape.” He took in a deep sigh and carefully began un-bandaging his leg. “I activated it before I realized what I was doing.”

Loki moved his chair a bit closer to get a better look at the deep cut on Bucky’s leg. The potion he’d used had completely destroyed the tracking device, but it was clear that was what Bucky had been attempting to destroy. He’d pushed through the mind control just enough to control where the Winter Soldier stabbed him. 

“They never came for me,” Bucky said softly. “I thought I was safe.” He glanced over at Sam and sighed a bit. “I never would’ve risked him, ever. I figured that no one had to be watching the computers any more, figured that your place had to be safe as Wakanda.”

Loki shrugged one shoulder. “I had to relax the wards to allow so many people in. Of course, if I had merely been _told,_ I could have changed them.”

Bucky sighed. “I know. I just…” He looked up at Loki through his lashes. “Loki, I’m _tired_. I don’t want to fight any more. I just want to rest.”

Loki nodded. “Of course you do,” he soothed, and he reached out, patting Bucky’s foot. It was a bit condescending, but Bucky relaxed anyway. “I ran seidr scans of your mind. I sent the relevant information to Shuri, and she should have a machine to completely erase the trigger words in approximately a month.” Bucky looked absolutely horrified and Loki sent him an amused look. “I told you that you should have allowed me into your mind. All this would’ve been solved long ago.”

He pushed to his feet, ignoring the way Bucky’s hand curled into a fist. Oh, let the boy be as angry as he wished. Loki would enjoy watching him try to do something about it. 

Loki checked to make sure the doorway to his bedroom was still clear and then he leaned over Bucky, hand on his shoulder, mouth at his ear. “I will tell you this only one time, soldier,” he hissed. Bucky stiffened. “I want this to sink down into the deepest parts of your mind. I want you to know this even if they find you and they erase you and you are nothing but a blank slate for their amusement. If you hurt him again, I will make you wish HYDRA had never fallen.” He straightened up, adjusted his shirt, smoothed down his sleeves. “I do hope I’ve made myself clear.”

Bucky nodded, the skin around his eyes tight. “Yes, sir.”

Loki gave him a sickening sweet smile. “I always liked you,” he said, almost as an afterthought. “When I knew nothing, I recognized you as kin. So I wish that you fully believe me when I say that I have rarely been more serious.”

With that, Loki turned on his heel and moved casually into his bedroom. 

Bucky pressed his fingers to his mouth, tried to keep in the sounds that wanted to escape. On the couch, Sam yawned and lifted his head. “Sounded serious,” he mumbled tiredly, reaching out a hand for Bucky. “You okay, babe?”

Bucky nodded, not pulling his eyes away from the empty doorway. “Wanna go upstairs?”

Sam sat up and stretched, reaching his hands out for Bucky, brushing his fingers over Bucky’s jaw, down his throat and over his bare chest. “Buck? What did he—you okay?”

Bucky sighed and nodded, turning his attention to Sam, giving him a small smile. “Head just hurts,” he said softly, leaning into Sam’s touch. “Just want to lay down with you.”

Sam nodded and quickly rewrapped Bucky’s leg with fresh bandages, then the two of them helped each other up and limped out of the room. 

In Loki’s bedroom, Loki and Clint stood next to each other next to the bed, watching Steve sleep. Natasha and Valkyrie were on the far side of the bed, backs pressed together, long hair tangled together.

Clint looked up at Loki. _You didn’t need to do that._

Loki shot him a faintly amused look. _No, of course I didn’t. He merely needed to be reminded of his place._

_Steve wouldn’t like it._

Loki shrugged one shoulder and loosely crossed his arms over his chest. _Bucky won’t say anything. I also enjoy the thought of you believing I would do something because of what Steve would think._

Before Clint could say anything, Loki reached forward and shook Steve awake. The Captain jerked awake, fist swinging, but Loki merely caught it with an amused snort. “Already fighting in our marriage bed,” Loki said disapprovingly, a smile curling up the corners of his mouth. 

Steve blinked fully awake and then sagged back into the mattress. “Loki?” he asked tiredly. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to wake up, my Captain,” Loki said smoothly, stepping back from the bed. “Come with me.”

With that, he turned on his heel and stepped out. Steve looked at Clint, who just shrugged and held out a hand to help him up. Steve slid their hands together and Clint yanked him out of bed. 

“What’s this about?” Steve asked, pulling on a shirt as he followed Steve out of the bedroom. 

Clint sighed and hid his yawn behind his hand. “You said you wanted to know why Loki hurt me.” He shrugged a bit. “Now you can see.”

Loki was sitting on the couch, a rather large supply of potion vials on the coffee table in front of him. He’d sent the cot to the far corner and pulled up the armchair. Clint obediently sat in the armchair and kicked off his boots and pulled off his shirt. After thinking about it for a minute, Steve sat on the couch with Loki, keeping himself in between Loki and Clint, just in case. 

Loki gave him a warm look and then held out his hand towards Clint, who took it. The gold snake around his neck animated and curled down their arms, slipping up Loki’s arm and over his shoulders. Loki carefully gathered up the snake in his hands and then set it on the table, where it curled into a circle and then stopped moving. 

It was strange to watch. Clint and Loki were obviously communicating, having some sort of conversation that Steve wasn’t privy to. He grew annoyed and glared at nothing in particular while they talked around him. 

Finally, Loki spoke aloud, conjuring up a cup of wine for himself. “I find it interesting that neither of us ever told you about this,” he mused, sipping slowly at the wine. “You are clearly uncomfortable with this.”

Steve frowned at him. “You’re hurting him. Of course I’m uncomfortable.”

Loki swirled the wine. “You’re going to have to do it eventually,” he pointed out. “_Eventually_ he’s going to act out again and you’re going to have to be the one to punish him.”

Clint huffed at that. 

Loki motioned casually to the potion vials on the table. “Pick one, then.” He looked at Steve over the rim of his cup as he sipped again. “While he’s choosing, tell him what you did, Clint.”

Before Clint could say anything, Steve motioned at the potions. “What does each of them do?”

Loki rolled his eyes, still amused at the two of them. “Oh, there’s no fun in that.” He waved at Clint. 

Clint rubbed at the back of his neck and then over his face. “I lied,” he finally grumbled. “Well, lied and forgot.” He shot Loki a dark look but then looked back at Steve. “T’Challa’s mother, you know her. Ramonda. Anyway, she asked me some questions the first time we were in Wakanda. They were regular stuff, about space travel and how I’d gotten so good with a bow and just...nothing I really thought about. Nothing of consequence. I had a lot bigger stuff to think about. Anyway, she also asked me about time travel.”

Steve straightened up. “Yeah?”

Loki made a faintly amused sound.

Clint let out a deep sigh. “Yeah. Apparently they have some...sorcerers or whatever that had been tracking changes in specific time continuums. I don’t know how. I think they’re in contact with the Ancient One and Banner. Essentially, they confirmed our theory that Thor and Frigga created a time loop that they basically trapped Loki in. Ramonda wants me to come to Wakanda to talk to their scientists and help their Dora Milaje with ranged weaponry, and I've told her I couldn't. So, here’s the rub: I didn’t tell Loki any of that. Totally forgot.”

Steve looked between the two of them. “Forgetting something is worth all of this?”

Loki’s mouth curled into a nasty smile, baring long, sharp teeth. “Oh, he hasn’t even gotten to the good part yet.”

Clint’s eyes dropped to the potion vials on the table. “My brother,” he said, a bit of a whine in his voice. “He wanted money. Loki has a safe.” Clint motioned in the general direction of the safe and Steve looked as well, as if the safe would appear out of thin air. “Loki said that I could take whatever I wanted, but that he’d punish me for it, essentially. So I took a lot.”

“And?” Loki purred.

“I gave the money to Barney.”

They both looked at Steve like that meant something.

“Why does that matter?” Steve finally asked.

“Pardon?” Loki said. “Why—he’s supposed to be taking care of _himself!_ Not giving away money to his useless brother. We’ve been over this multiple times and he refuses to care for himself. So, ergo, punishment.”

Steve blinked rapidly, trying to process what Loki had just said. “Wait, this is about Clint?”

“What else would it be about?” Loki questioned, looking genuinely confused.

“I thought this was about me!”

“Why on Midgard would this be about you? I have no desire to punish you.”

Clint groaned, throwing himself back in the chair. “Can someone just punch me or whatever? I just want to go to bed!”

“Wait,” Steve said, shaking his head. “You’re not taking care of yourself, so Loki wants to hurt you.”

“Essentially, yeah. And the lying thing. But mostly it’s about the money.” Clint groaned again. “Just pick a potion and feed it to me.”

Steve turned to Loki, who merely motioned at the vials on the table. “If I don’t choose one?”

Loki shrugged. “Then he takes all of them.”

“And you won’t tell me what any of them do?”

Loki merely raised an eyebrow at him.

Steve looked at the table. There were six potions, all in similar vials. Two were different shades of red, one was bright orange, one was black, one was blue, and the last was white. There were no labels or any other identifying information.

“Do you have a preference?” he asked Clint, who shifted excitedly in his chair.

“Oh, no,” Clint assured him, eyes bright. “I like them all.”

Steve looked at Loki, who merely sipped at his wine.

The two of them were obviously talking telepathically. Steve grit his teeth and glared at the bottles. The whole thing seemed ridiculous, and he was getting annoyed. Frustrated. Mad, even.

He clenched his fists, grit his jaw.

“Oh, isn’t this _interesting,_” Loki murmured, setting his cup down and resting his chin on the palm of his hand, watching Steve struggle with a smile.

Finally, Steve reached out and grabbed the black potion and the white one. He pushed them at Clint and shoved to his feet. “You two deal with this. I’m not having any part of it.”

“Oh, sit down,” Loki purred, sliding to his feet, slinking past the couch and sliding his hand into the curve of Steve’s arm. “You were so _curious_ about Clint, weren’t you? Wanting to know why I hurt him, how, if he’s alright afterwards. Don’t you care about him? He’s going to be yours soon.” Loki slid up closer to Steve, arms wrapping around his shoulders, pressing his entire body to the length of Steve’s. Steve swallowed thickly. “Oh, my Captain, we have a little pet to take care of. He’s going to be with us for a very long time.” Loki pressed his mouth to Steve’s jaw. “Now, I want to watch you hurt him.”

Steve slid an arm around Loki’s waist and pulled him close, looking over at Clint, who just smiled up at him. Steve blew out a breath, anger biting at his chest. He was so _mad._ Why did Clint get to have the bond with Loki? Why not him? Why didn’t he deserve it? Why did Clint get Loki? There’d been so much to tear them apart, if this was what it took...surely it couldn’t be so bad. If this was his future, if this was part of having Loki, of Clint being part of their lives, then he’d just have to live with that. He’d do whatever it took to keep Loki.

Slowly, Steve pointed to the black vial.

“Oh, do the other one first,” Loki purred, lips moving against his ear. 

Steve shivered.

Clint picked up the white vial and uncorked it, dipping his finger in and opening his mouth. He spread a drop of potion over his tongue. It took only a moment for him to gasp and contort and seize. 

Loki’s lips curled into a smile against Steve’s ear.

“Poor boy,” Loki murmured. “He’s lucky he’s barely human anymore. He’s mostly seidr now, you know, in human form. It’ll burn out of him in just a minute. But it makes just that much more intense, doesn’t it?”

They both watched Clint seize and shake on the chair, eyes rolled back in his head, skin trembling as he shook. It took just a few more seconds and then there was a flash of green glittering seidr over his skin and Clint gasped out, sagging back into the chair. He took in deep, ragged breaths.

Loki smoothly disengaged from Steve and moved over to Clint, running long blue fingers over his face. Clint turned into his touch, arching up into it, murmuring something under his breath.

“Oh, is that right,” Loki said softly, lounging across the back of Clint’s chair. “Do sit down, Steve. The next one is...eventful.”

Somehow, he was less annoyed. Seeing Clint shake and shiver and tremble under the influence of the potion had somehow eased something in his chest. Steve shook his head and sat down on the couch, picking up the black potion in his hand and looking at it. He turned the vial over in his hand.

Steve looked up at them. 

“Tell me what it is.”

Loki’s mouth curled into a long-toothed smile, and so did Clint’s. 

“Oh, my Captain,” Loki rumbled, mismatched eyes slit. “Are you sure you wish to know?”

Steve didn’t think about it, he just nodded.

“It is a simple poison. _Eitr_. It causes death in less than a minute, through building up fluid in the lungs. Quite painful.” Loki slid his hand into Clint’s hair and tugged at it, Clint letting Loki pull him backwards up into his lap. Clint stretched out with a pleased moan. 

“So it could kill him?” Steve asked, brow furrowing. 

Loki smiled slowly and darkly. “Oh, the hope is that it doesn’t, of course. But the risk is always there.”

“I’m not giving him something that could kill him.”

Loki shrugged one shoulder and lazily waved a hand at the snake on the table. It animated and floated up into the air, slithering towards them. Clint’s eyes caught it and he shuddered as it slipped over his shoulders and back around his neck. 

“Why are you being punished?” Loki asked, eyes intent on Steve. 

“I lied,” Clint croaked out, and he swallowed dryly. “I belong to you and I chose to take care of someone else instead of myself.”

“What are you?”

“Yours.”

The snake bit down. 

Clint shrieked.

“You see,” Loki said, his voice slow and as smooth as molasses, “I want you to watch, Captain. I want you to look at your future and know that this is going to be a part of it, along with far darker and more horrible things.”

Froth bubbled out of Clint’s lips as he began to seize. Steve tried to rush off the couch to help him, but seidr kept him pinned in place.

“You told me once that you would marry me despite Clint being in our lives forever. I want you to marry me _because_ he’s in your life forever. Do you see the difference now, my Captain?”

“Who are you?” Steve breathed. “The Loki I knew—”

Loki laughed at him, cold and dark. “Oh, you knew an abused little brat who didn’t know any better.” He pressed a finger to Clint’s forehead and burnt the poison out of him, the snake releasing its fangs and going limp around his neck again. Clint shuddered and passed out. “When you chose to burn Thor’s curse out of me, you took away far more than you realized. You took _everything_. I only knew Thor.”

Loki slid off the back of the armchair and carefully summoned a few potions, wiping away the spittle and foam from Clint’s mouth and setting his tongue with healing potions. He summoned the cot and laid the archer down, covering him with a soft blanket. 

Loki vanished the rest of the potions and then turned back to Steve. He elegantly knelt at the Captain’s feet. 

“I wish for you to understand what a disservice you have done to me,” Loki informed him softly. Steve looked horrified. “I can no longer be soft. There has been no respite in my life, not anymore. I killed Thor, and I will kill Thanos as well. I wish for you to be by my side, Captain, as is your place. But I believe that you see me as the Loki-I-was, the Loki who only knew how to kneel.”

Loki looked up, and the last of the Aesir glamour finally fell away. 

He was beautiful and dangerous, the color of ice, eyes as red as rubies.

“I will kneel for you, Captain,” Loki said softly, “because it is the only place I feel at peace. But I am more than I was.”

Steve swallowed and nodded, eyes flicking between the Jotun at his feet and Clint, unconscious on the cot. “They told me I probably wouldn’t recognize you after you woke up,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “That most of who you were was because of me.”

Loki smiled, curling black lips over sharp teeth. “I see myself in his memories,” he said simply. “I was _yours,_ whatever that may mean. I believe I still am. But it is different, less absolute, because I can stand without you.”

“You were hurting him before,” Steve said, reaching out to smooth his fingers over the heritage ridges on Loki’s forehead. Loki let him, tipping his head back for easier access.

“He can be rather disobedient,” Loki pointed out, his voice a low, pleased rumble. “But, as I said, I enjoy it.”

Steve sighed. “I’m not sleeping with him.”

“He’ll put up a fuss if you make him sleep on the floor,” Loki replied with a casual shrug. “But very well. We can give him a pillow or something.”

“No. I meant…sex sleeping.”

Loki’s mouth turned down and he leaned away from Steve’s hand, shooting him a look of disgust. “Why does everyone on this horrible, backwards realm believe that every relationship has to be sexual?” he spat. “Why would I want to fuck him anyway? He’s like a dog. Barely even a smart one. It would be like fucking a monkey.” He made to stand up on a huff but Steve reached out automatically, pushing down on his shoulders. Loki’s red eyes flared and he stayed on his knees. 

“Alright,” Steve soothed with a bit of a smile. “We’re on the same page. Well, close enough to it. I just…” He trailed off, eyes falling on Clint’s unconscious form. “It just seems wrong to me.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed, just enough to be noticeable. “Perhaps when we are married, then,” he said carefully, “and you are in his mind, you will understand.” He looked as if to continue speaking, but stopped himself. 

Steve just sighed. He'd made a promise to stay with Loki long ago, no matter what, and he intended to keep that promise. “Alright,” he said simply, and leaned forward to press a kiss to Loki’s forehead. He pushed to his feet and pointedly avoided looking at Clint. “I’m going back to bed.”

Loki tilted his head and watched him go.

Steve shut the bedroom behind him, and Clint sat up just a second later. Loki slithered onto the couch and laid languorously along the length of it, sliding his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“That went well,” Clint said, yawning around his hand. Loki made a wiggling motion with his shoulders that was similar to a shrug. “Didn’t actually think he’d go through with it.” He stretched. “How’d you get him to choose those two?”

Loki’s eyes didn’t move away from the ceiling. “They were all spelled to be the same. You would’ve gotten the same two regardless of which ones he chose or in which order.”

“Pity,” Clint grumbled. “Kinda wanted him to hit me.”

Loki smiled a bit at that. “Perhaps next time.” He lifted a black-clawed hand and scratched at his chin, rubbing the pads of his fingers over the heritage marks there. “I would thoroughly enjoy watching him reduce you to rubble.”

Clint shivered. “Yeah,” he muttered, laying back down. Loki threw a blanket at him and Clint curled up underneath it. “We’ll get him there eventually.”

Loki didn’t answer, and Clint quickly fell asleep.

* * *

Tony Stark had officially retired, leaving running of Stark Industries to Pepper, and the running of the Avengers to Natasha. He still checked in on each of them about once per week, and spent the rest of his time either ignoring calls from Secretary Ross or trying to track down the renegade members of the Avengers. He’d built two more Iron Man suits and then locked them up. His therapist told him that regardless of the guilt he felt, it wasn’t actually his job to save the world. He needed to take care of himself before he could take care of others. He’d thought about firing her over that, but he supposed it made sense. It’d mostly been Pepper agreeing with her that had made Tony take pause and really think about it.

Currently, he was trying to fix the dishwasher. Well, one of the dishwashers. He was trying to fix the dishwasher that wasn’t working. The other one was working but Tony liked this one better. He’d tried doing some upgrades to it that had seemed to do the opposite of what he’d intended, so, ergo, fixing it.

A floorboard creaked.

“Vision?” he called out. “You back yet?”

“Huh,” someone said. “Didn’t realize you two had hooked up.”

Tony jerked and scooted out from inside the dishwasher, brandishing the screwdriver like a weapon. He’d designed nanotech Iron Man bracelets and, of course, had stopped wearing them at home. “FRIDAY,” he started, but Clint Barton merely smiled at him and raised the Tesseract.

“Oh, good luck with that one,” Clint said, and activated it.

The Tesseract threw them into a small room attached to Loki’s library. It was about twelve feet by twelve feet, and blindingly white. There were two chairs, one of which Loki was already occupying. The room was usually a study room, but they’d spent the morning clearing it out. Well, Clint had. Loki had spent the time digging through his books and angsting.

Tony blinked at Loki being bright ass blue but just sighed at the two of them and took the empty chair.

“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, and motioned at Loki’s whole _thing_. “So, you’re blue now. Get cold up in Asgard?”

Loki smiled, black lips curling away from long, sharp teeth. Tony couldn’t stop himself from stiffening, something deep and instinctive inside of him wanting to run. Clint moved around the room and stood at Loki’s right hand, hands slung casually in his pockets. Tony knew him better than that, though, knew him better than to believe that Clint wasn’t constantly ready for anything. “We have much to talk about, you and I,” Loki said. “Let’s start at the beginning.”

“If I don’t?” Tony shot back, because he couldn’t help himself.

Loki gave a rolling shrug. “I know spells to make you tell me. You’ll sit in the back of your mind as you spill everything to me. You’ll be cognizant of everything I ask and you won’t be able to stop yourself from answering, no matter how personal the question. Or,” and here, Loki smiled again, “you can simply tell me what I wish to know.”

Tony looked to Clint, who just gave him a look like ‘Who, me?’ and yeah, he should’ve known better. He glanced around the room, noting the lack of exit, the plain white walls, the high ceilings, the cold white floors. “How about we make a deal?”

Loki tapped long black claws on the arm of his chair. He straightened out his legs, crossing them at the ankle. “Generally, deals require leverage from both parties. From where I’m sitting, Stark, you don’t have any.”

“Sure,” Tony agreed, “but you always struck me as the type of guy who likes to take risks.”

This time, the smile didn’t slip away from Loki’s mouth. “Is that so,” he murmured, and at a flick of his fingers, Clint stepped forward. The archer didn’t say anything, merely _did something_ that made the room suddenly smaller, made him loom over Tony, and he jumped back, chair crashing to the floor, and he pressed his back to the wall, panting—

“Didn’t think that’d work,” Clint said, voice bright, and he stepped back, suddenly normal again. “Never really tried it before.”

Loki didn’t pay any attention to him, merely waited for Tony to catch his breath again and warily put the chair to rights and sat back down. He didn’t say anything.

Finally, Tony took in a deep breath and said, “For every question you ask me, I get to ask you one.”

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s it?”

Tony shrugged. “Sure.” 

Loki and Clint exchanged a look. Clint made an amused sound and Loki waved his hand, a chair appearing next to his. Clint sat and smirked at him, as if he knew something Tony didn’t. Tony crossed his arms over his chest and tapped on the arc reactor in his chest, attempting to activate the panic code.

“It won’t work,” Loki said casually. “We’re in...liminal space.”

“You’re stuck here,” Clint informed him with a grin. “Trust me, nothin’s getting in or out without his say so. Now, let’s get started.” A scroll popped into existence in front of them and Clint reached out and grabbed it, unfurling it. “So, again, we’re starting at the beginning. You and Thor.”

“Wait, I’m here about Thor?”

Clint and Loki exchanged another glance and Loki frowned. “Why else would you be here?” Loki queried.

Tony threw up his hands. “Oh, I almost killed Cap! And Barnes! And—”

“Oh, I don’t care about any of that,” Loki interrupted, carelessly waving a hand. “You’re not anywhere near as deadly as you like to think you are. Now—”

Tony held up a hand. “How do _you_ not care about the fight in the bunker? I once saw you threaten to take a stranger’s arm off because they bumped into Steve. I tried to kill him.” Strangely enough, Loki looked at Clint, who nodded. Tony frowned. “You used to refuse to let anyone sit next to you because that was _Steve’s_ spot. Now you’re going to try to tell me that I’m, what, getting off scot-free?”

“If I considered you a threat, you would be dead,” Loki said to him, and it felt like the first true thing Loki had ever said to him. “Now, Thor. When did you meet?”

Tony sighed. “When you two crashed into my tower, remember?”

“You didn’t meet him before that?” Clint asked, making notes on the scroll, which was somehow floating in midair. Tony shook his head. “So, Thor came to Earth before you were resurrected,” Clint mused, “and if what Stark is saying is true, he only made contact with HYDRA. No one else.”

“Hold on, HYDRA?”

They both ignored him. Tony threw up his hands.

Clint and Loki fell quiet but continued communicating in that creepy silent way they had. Tony groaned out of boredom and tried to remember if he’d left any tools or equipment in any of his pockets. He was thinking about choking himself out with his belt when Clint turned back to him.

“Did you ever meet a woman named Frigga? Or Freya?”

Tony immediately shook his head and then thought better of it, something similar catching on a forgotten memory. Huh. “Freyja,” he tried, and Loki turned to him, piercing red eyes burning a hole in him. Tony stopped himself from shifting uncomfortably. “She got a meeting with me about a year before I met the two of you. She wanted Stark Industries to invest in the technology that eventually led to the Regeneration Cradle.”

Clint’s hand went to his side. 

“Did you?” Loki asked softly.

Tony sighed. “Yeah. We funded SHIELD, which funded the lab that incorporated Asgardian tech into the Cradle. We told them it came from prototypes that I designed. No one ever questioned it.”

Loki’s dark lips curled down in a frown. “We assumed it was Thor who brought you that technology,” he said in that same soft tone. Tony had to lean in a bit to hear him. “You were working with him. Did he promise you the Mind Stone?”

“The Scepter? No. He said it needed to go back to Asgard, but Thor told me I could experiment with it until then. He was in full support of creating Vision.”

“So you were less allied with him than I had previously believed,” Loki mused, giving him an appraising look. “You still were very stupid.”

“Look who’s talking,” Tony sniped back. 

“You still created Ultron,” Clint pointed out. “Even _not_ helping Thor doesn’t really make up for that.”

“It was an accident!” Tony exclaimed. “I...look. We have real power here, we’re really able to do something to _help_ people. If I can do that, if I can make people safe, then sometimes we have to sacrifice.”

“You can’t make other people sacrifice for you, Tony,” Clint said tiredly. “And not like that. You can’t just bully people into making the world _you_ want. That’s not the way it works. You can’t make mistakes and then try to hold everyone but yourself accountable.” He shook his head and looked back down at his scroll. “You saw how it went with the Accords, Tony. That happened because of _you_. Do you know how many people would’ve died if Loki hadn’t contained the blast that you and Thor set off? Thousands. That would’ve been on your shoulders. Because you couldn’t contain your own goddamn invention that you made out of guilt or PTSD or whatever crap.”

Tony opened his mouth to reply but Loki held up a hand.

“I went through your computers a few years ago,” Loki informed him. “Before Ultron, in fact.” He held up a hand and in his palm, a swirling mirage of words and information appeared. Tony frowned, rubbing at the arc reactor in his chest, feeling violated. “You keep better records than I had expected of you. Which means you kept track of your various attempts at peacekeeping technology.” Loki twitched his fingers and the words spread out over the room, splitting off into various files and swirls and Tony gaped at all of it. He stood up and looked around at all of it, at all of his years of labor, at his classified psychiatric files, at every failed attempt at Iron Man suits, at his video journals, at every single thing he’d done, and Tony just shook his head.

“Why?”

Loki made a rolling motion with his shoulders that was close to a lazy shrug. “I assumed you to be working with my brother. It is common practice to gain information on the enemy.”

“We were never enemies,” Tony tried, mind racing. “I never liked you, either of you, but we weren’t _enemies._”

“My stint in the Raft says otherwise,” Clint offered up. “Same with your bullshit with the Accords.”

“We had to be reined in!” Tony exclaimed. 

“I seem to recall you having no issue taking the reins when the Avengers was first founded,” Loki replied placidly. “I also seem to recall everyone on the team being adults, and therefore capable of controlling their own actions. Except, it seems, for you.” He motioned lazily at a few of the diagrams unfolding on the far side of the room, and Tony turned to look at them. They were models of his other plans to put the Mind Stone to use. He paled. “Life is about choices,” Loki said softly, dangerously, lips curled in a sharp smile. “There are eventualities, but between those eventualities, we make our own choices. It seems there are two choices in front of you now. Do you understand?”

* * *

Loki held his hands behind his back as he stood in the center of the New York Sanctum. He was wearing a high-collared emerald tunic with silver scrollwork stitching around the hem, and charcoal leggings over trim, black snake-skin boots. Clint was standing behind him, of course, dressed in a grey t-shirt emblazoned with the purple Hawkeye chevron, and black tactical pants over black boots. He had his Aesir bow and quiver slung over his back, and the Tesseract in his hand. Steve stood next to him, dressed in khakis and a dark green button-up. Mjolnir hung off his belt.

Loki was carefully keeping his mind and face blank. He’d managed to pull up his glamour over his visible skin, but if he became distracted, it would slip, revealing blue skin hiding behind white, green eyes flickering red. 

They were there to speak with the Ancient One and Bruce Banner. However, Loki’s eyes kept drifting to the cupboard which held the Cloak of Levitation. He could feel the Cloak’s impatience filtering through the air, the hunger it had for its master. Soon. Very soon. He could feel it.

He looked around the rooms, seeing himself and Thor sitting at the tables, heads bent over books, pens scratching as they wrote down notes and information. He could see himself here, all those lives ago. All of that research, all that time, just for Thor to kill him in the end.

He bared his teeth at the thought. Behind him, Clint brushed his fingers over his forehead.

Bruce came through the portal first. He looked younger, almost, and refreshed. None of them had ever seen him so calm or comfortable with himself. Clint and Steve exchanged looks.

“Dr. Banner,” Loki greeted, on the border of being pleasant. 

“Loki,” he replied, and nodded at Steve and Clint. “Cap, Clint. You three look well.” He held up the book in his hand. “I saw Tony’s press conference.”

Loki merely smiled, book floating out of Bruce’s hand and over to Clint, who caught it and put it into Steve’s pocket dimension after the Captain opened it for him. He didn’t reply, merely turned away and began to peruse the various relics. Clint rolled his eyes and both he and Steve stepped up to talk to Bruce. “We had a bit of a talk with him,” Clint said quietly. “Helped Tony see the light, as it were.”

Bruce just sighed. Behind him, the portal finally fizzled out, but not before Clint had peered through it, seeing the various figures of students at Kamar-Taj behind him. “You know about that?” Bruce asked Steve, who gave him his version of a helpless look.

“People seem to overestimate my ability to tell Loki what to do,” he told them quietly, almost confiding in them. “He’s been...unpredictable lately. We think it’s the aftereffects of Thor’s curse.”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Bruce said, running his hand through his hair. He motioned at the nearest table. “You guys want to sit? I’ll get some tea.”

Steve and Clint exchanged uncomfortable glances but neither of them could find a reasonable explanation for why they didn’t want to sit, so they both nodded uncomfortably and sat down next to each other at the table, resting their various weapons and accoutrements on top of it. Bruce bustled off to the kitchen. Clint craned his head to see Loki standing in front of the Cloak of Levitation, eyes narrowed as he looked up at it.

_You know you can’t take it._

_I am unsure if I am drawn to it because of my memory of it or because I am meant to join with it._

Clint grimaced. Gross. _How about you come sit instead? Ancient One will be here soon._

Loki turned his head to look at Clint over his shoulder, a small smile curling his mouth. _You are becoming more aware of the seidr around you,_ he praised gently, and turned to step over to the table. He gave the plain wooden chairs a look of distaste and conjured up a comfortable armchair for himself, settling comfortably down into it. 

Steve gave him a fond, amused look. Loki ignored him, attention grabbed by the familiar books around them.

Clint’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out to find a text from Bucky.

_What happened to my family?_

Christ on the cross. Clint rubbed at his forehead and sighed. Just what he needed.

Loki reached over and took Clint’s phone from him, raising an eyebrow at the text. Steve glanced between the two of them but didn’t ask, giving Bruce a quiet thanks as the doctor came back with a tea tray.

Loki dropped Clint’s phone on the table and took the cup Bruce offered him, changing the green tea into black tea with a tap of his finger. Clint and Steve both obligingly took their cups and Bruce sat down across from them. Clint winced at the taste of the tea—somehow it tasted worse than the nasty crap Bruce used to make—and set his cup down, picking his phone back up.

_I’ll look into it,_ he typed back, and shook his head at Steve’s inquiring glance. He slid his phone back into his pocket as Bruce cautiously cleared his throat and fiddled with his cup.

“How’s Nat?”

Clint shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “Her and Valkyrie are tracking the group that tried to reactivate Bucky. You know, you could call her if you wanted to know. Hell, text her, even.” He took another sip of tea and grimaced. “What the hell kind of tea is this, man?”

Loki turned his head just as the air around them changed, and a moment later, a portal appeared behind Bruce. The Ancient One stepped through, clad in heavy orange robes, her bald head catching the light. Steve pushed to his feet, stepping around the table to introduce himself. Loki didn’t move, which meant that Clint didn’t move either. Bruce stood up and pulled over a chair for her.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve said, holding out his hand. She inclined her head and didn’t take it. A brief frown crossed Steve’s face and then he dropped his hand.

“I am called the Ancient One,” she said, her voice soft. “Please, let us sit.” She turned to the table and looked between Loki and Clint. “It is good to meet you again, Loki of Asgard.” The Ancient One took the seat Bruce pulled up for her and both Bruce and Steve sat, Steve wrapping his large hands around the small teacup. “Dr. Banner and I have been busy of late.”

Loki clasped his hands in his lap, crossing his legs. A casual wave of his fingers had Clint pulling out a seidr notebook from his pack, laying it on the table and a hologram appeared above it. Clint pulled out another notebook and a pen, so that he could take and compare notes. 

The hologram opened up into a swath of information, everything that Loki had gathered from research and from what Thor had told him, as well as what research the Asgardian seidrmadrs and scientists had done, as well as what Clint could figure out from his own various memories. It was months upon months of labor, all pointing to one conclusion: Thor and Frigga had manipulated time and seidr in order to bring Loki back from the dead, and perhaps, once upon a time, their goal had been to defeat Thanos, but it had twisted and contorted into Thor doing everything in his power to keep Loki close, and to punish him when he tried to run. To kill him. The only unanswered question was _why_, and Clint was beginning to believe they’d never find the answer.

The Ancient One solemnly regarded the information and nodded. Carefully, she picked up the necklace around her neck and pulled it off, laying it on the table. She opened it and the four of them looked at the Time Stone, nestled inside the Eye of Agamotto.

On his lap, Loki’s hands curled into fists. Clint pushed his foot forward so that their legs were brushing.

“The Kamar-Taj is dedicated to the study of magic, but most importantly, to _time_. We have sorcerers keeping track of time, of how it changes, of the blips and various dimensions and the various realities, all changing and happening around us.” She brought up a hand and golden sparkles shimmered up around her, going out in a straight line away from them. “This is our concept of time. It goes forward. It cannot be stopped or changed. Except for, however,” and here, she motioned to a small wiggle, barely perceptible, and expanded it, “Thor. Just over a decade ago, he changed something.”

“Our understanding is that was when he and Frigga reentered time,” Loki said quietly. 

The Ancient One nodded and compressed the timeline back down until it was just one straight line again, going off into the distance. She motioned to a section and magnified it, and Clint held in his gasp. The section was blurred, almost, with hundreds, if not thousands, of similar lines on top of it. 

The Ancient One swallowed and her forehead pinched together. “We believe this is Thor’s influence,” she said. “Bruce told me that he pulled you through dimensions?”

“Not exactly,” Clint replied. “Either it was a lie, or Frigga didn’t tell him that it was a loop. They’re both dead, so we’re just theorizing.”

Steve spoke up, “I remember Thor hating Thanos. Even a mention of him would bring in a storm.”

Clint nodded, agreeing with him. “Yeah, I think Thor started out wanting revenge on Thanos. Failing to kill him in that first life really messed him up.”

“You remember?” the Ancient One asked sharply, leaning forward.

Clint frowned at her. “Yeah. I remember all of them.”

She and Bruce leaned together and muttered a few sentences that neither Clint nor Steve could catch, but had Loki’s lips and eyes tightening. Then the Ancient One looked at Clint and gave him a searching look. “You’re the key,” she said simply, “to figure out what Thor and Frigga did, and to defeat Thanos. You’re going to have to stay here and go through every single life you can remember.”

Clint stopped his automatic nod and glanced between Steve and Loki. Steve had a slight frown on his face but he didn’t say anything. Loki looked furious.

“Let’s meet in the middle,” Clint tried slowly, glancing between all of them. “There’s no way I’m staying here, sorry. I have a family.” He didn’t say that Loki would probably kill himself if he had to deal with Clint being at the Sanctum. Too many memories for the two of them. The Ancient One and Bruce didn’t look convinced. “If Loki doesn’t want me to, I’m not going to. You’re going to have to convince him, not me.”

Bruce frowned at him while the Ancient One nodded and turned her attention to Loki. “Prince Loki, we need his knowledge.”

“Neither me or mine will spend a single night in this place,” Loki said softly, dangerously. “If you are aware of Thor, you are aware of what he did to me here.”

“Stephen will be here soon,” the Ancient One said after a long moment, looking at Loki with a contemplative gaze. Steve stiffened next to Clint and outside, thunder rumbled overhead. “Do you not miss him?”

“I am engaged to be married,” Loki said simply, glancing at Steve. “To someone other than Stephen Strange. He is a part of my past, not my future.”

Clint didn’t say anything about the hesitancy in Loki’s heart. That was for the two of them and no one else.

The Ancient One nodded and brought her hands together, vanishing the timeline. She motioned at the seidr notebook. “Perhaps communication journals, then? Surely that would be acceptable.”

Loki’s lips thinned. “I would find that acceptable, Ancient One, but I also would advise you to not consider my time a liberty in which you may freely partake.” He held out his hand, palm up, and two notebooks appeared in it, one purple and one green. Clint took the purple one and Bruce took the green. “Clint is already researching his memories in order to defeat Thanos. This additional request should give him no difficulty.” Clint dutifully nodded his head. Wasn’t like he could complain or raise a fuss anyway. Loki lazily motioned at Steve. “He also has the assistance of the Captain, who has been advised to _lay low._”

The Ancient One looked faintly amused as she looked at all of them, but then she nodded. She looked at Clint. “Thank you for your time,” she told him, “and if something good came out of all of this, I am glad it is you.”

With that, she pushed to her feet, Bruce tripping over himself to help her, and the two of them talked for a few minutes while Clint tried to get ahold on his and Loki’s emotions. Steve just looked faintly annoyed, which Clint assumed was from the mention of Stephen.

_Before you do this...chore for the Sorcerer Supreme, find out what happened to Bucky’s family,_ Loki told him, and he picked up his teacup and glared down into it. Clint just nodded and put away the notebooks and picked up his bow and quiver, watching as Mjolnir jumped into Steve’s hand. 

“You good with this?” Steve asked him, and Clint frowned at him. 

“Sure?”

Steve sighed at him. “Clint, you can say no if you want.”

Huh. He looked at Loki, who had no expression on his face and wasn’t feeling anything. “Cap,” he tried, “I don’t really mind. Honest. I’ll help any way I can.”

Steve’s eyebrows did that _thing_ that made Clint feel automatically guilty. He winced and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I look forward to our correspondence,” the Ancient One said, and opened a portal, stepping through it a moment later. Loki’s eyes locked on the brief glimpse he caught of Kamar-Taj, and then the portal closed. Bruce gave the three of them a sheepish smile.

“You guys staying for dinner?”

Loki answered for them. “I must regretfully decline,” he replied, sounding anything but. “We must be going.” He pushed to his feet and vanished his armchair, smoothing down his clothes with quick hands. Some kind of thought was ticking through his mind but it went by too fast for Clint to really catch it. Both he and Steve stood and stepped up to either side of Loki, looking at Bruce at the same time. Bruce gave them an uncomfortable smile and held up his green notebook.

“How’s this work, then?”

Clint answered when Loki decided to walk off and poke around the Sanctum some more. “It’s like shitty texting,” he told Bruce. “I write something in my journal and you can see it in yours, and vice versa. These don’t have an alert system, so if it’s an emergency or whatever, call one of us. I’ll start tonight. It’s going to take a lot of time, but I’m retired.” He shrugged. “We good, boss?”

Loki moved back around the room, fiddling with one of his pocket dimensions. Clint barely stopped from rolling his eyes as Loki pulled out the Tesseract and waved the two of them closer. Loki inclined his head to Bruce and then activated the Tesseract, the three of them vanishing.

They reappeared on Clint’s porch, Loki immediately pushing past them to go in the house. Clint sighed at Steve, who hefted Mjolnir in his hand and then sat on the porch swing. After a moment of consideration, Clint sat down next to him, sliding his bow down his arm and holding it in his hand. 

Clint sighed when Steve didn’t say anything and scooted closer, leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve shifted around so he could sling his arm over Clint’s shoulders and let out a sigh of his own, dropping Mjolnir to the porch. 

“When Loki wanted to be married to me the first time, what was he thinking?”

Cling thought about it, thought about Loki feeding him potions at the cabin, about Loki trying to convince himself that he wasn’t worried about Steve finding someone better, _anyone_ else. He finally managed to put it into words and said, “I think he rushed it, to be honest with you, Cap. Thor taught him that no one else could love him, that he was essentially useless outside of his seidr. The unfinished soulbond also pulls at him in a different way than it does at you. He won’t let me do any research on Jotun, but I don’t think they have soulmates like Aesir. I think they have something similar, but not something that’s...predestined like soulmates.”

“Humans have soulmates,” Steve said, free hand rubbing at his chest in the space over his heart. 

Clint nodded, leaning more fully into Steve’s side. He kicked off his boots and pulled off his socks with his toes, wiggling his toes in the slight breeze. Steve adjusted him so that he could lean his cheek against the top of Clint’s head. “Sure,” Clint replied. “Again, humans and Aesir have a lot in common. Soulmates being one of them. Hjalmar probably knows more about it. I’ll be pretty busy with this whole timeline thing for awhile, though, so probably won’t have a chance to ask him.”

“Why’d he rush?” Steve asked, looking at the sunset over the fields. “I would’ve waited.”

Clint thought about it and sat up a bit so that he was still nestled into Steve’s side. “Asgardian weddings are...private isn’t enough of a word. They’re sacred, almost. Bonds like what Thor and Loki did can be in public, but if Thor had gotten his way, he would’ve married Loki in private. Even Thor wouldn’t have done something like that in public. Loki, for all his strength, is scared. He spent so long being told that he didn’t need anyone besides Thor, and now that Thor is dead, he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He has his soul pulling at him, telling him to keep you close, and he has his insecurities telling him that if he doesn’t tie you down quick, you’re going to leave him.” He shrugged a bit. “The only thing he’s not worried about is me. Once you two are married, you’ll understand.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a few minutes, clearly processing Clint’s word vomit. Finally, he replied, “At this point, I don’t really care why. I just want him.”

“You have him,” Clint said simply. “He’s realizing it, I promise.”

Steve nodded. “Alright. Good. Now, about earlier. You know that you don’t _have_ to do something just because someone wants you to.”

“So, you don’t want me to help stop Thanos because I don’t _have_ to?”

He could _feel_ Steve’s frown at that. “That’s not what I’m saying. You have to do the right thing. But...there’s other options than yes, Clint.”

“I know, Steve. Don’t worry, just because I’m agreeable doesn’t mean anyone is taking advantage of me. I’m just happy to help.”

Steve went quiet at that. He moved his hand to brush it through Clint’s hair. The sky was almost completely dark by the time he said, “I can see why Loki keeps you so close.” Clint shivered at the somber tone of Steve’s voice, the way it went cold and stern. “I’m thinking that eternity won’t be too bad with you around.”

“Probably not eternity,” Clint pointed out unhelpfully, feeling his heart shiver in his chest. “Probably just four or so thousand years.”

“That sounds like eternity to me.”

* * *

It wasn’t that Clint disliked sucking cock. In fact, he enjoyed it. He had a bit of an oral fixation anyway, always needed to be doing something with his hands or his mouth. But it’d been awhile. And, well, he was still married. So it was extra weird. 

The cock in his mouth felt familiar, the weight of it comforting on his tongue, the wide head pushing down his throat. He drooled around it, tracing the veins on the bottom with his tongue, feeling the owner of the cock shiver, fingers glide through his hair. 

Once, when he’d been a kid, before the circus, he and Barney had been on the run. They’d holed up in some shitty motel in some shitty town, and after a week or so, Barney had gotten arrested for stealing from the gas station. They’d put him in prison for 30 days, and Clint had been on his own. The motel had been paid up through the week, and he hadn’t been old enough to get a job or anything, so he’d found the nearest bar and posted up behind there. Offered handjobs for $20 and blowjobs for $50. He’d made a month’s rent within the first week. He’d always turned down anything more than those two jobs and could choke on a dick well enough to make up for the difference. 

He’d never told Barney. Barney had never asked, either. Maybe he’d known, maybe he hadn’t cared. 

Clint’s eyes slipped up from hazily focusing on the toned stomach of however was threading their fingers through his hair and looked past the lazily pulsing hips and up over the sculpted chest and landed on an incredibly familiar jawline. Blue eyes bored into his own as the head of Steve’s cock popped into his throat and Steve let out a soft moan, brushing Clint’s hair off his face. 

He jerked awake, panting loudly, turning his head to see Loki and Steve both asleep on either side of him. He shuddered and clambered out of bed over Loki, stumbling into the bathroom to splash water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror and ran his hands over the planes of his face, over his creased forehead, his familiar nose, the friendly cut of his mouth. He turned away from his reflection and shivered. 

He wasn’t Loki. He _wasn’t_. All appearances aside, they were still separate people. 

Wait, were they?

Was he even a person anymore? He was no longer human, that was for sure. He was technically Asgardian, but he’d never match up to an Aesir. He was mostly seidr at this point, which was still a little bit existentially horrifying. But, he was Clint Barton, and he persevered. He always stood back up after getting knocked down. 

He washed the taste of Steve’s dick out of his mouth and decided to sleep on the couch, hoping there wasn’t that type of dream sharing in his future.

* * *

Loki ate breakfast with them the next morning and then vanished, presumably to Wakanda or maybe even to the real Omnipotence City or some tiny planet Clint didn’t even know the name of. He promised to try to come back most nights, and to summon him if he got in a bind or needed him, which was good enough for Clint. 

Which left him with Steve. If Steve was anything, he was patient. He helped Laura with the kids and helped Clint sink into his mind and slowly begin the long process of detangling all of his memories into separate timelines. He was a rock. 

To Clint’s surprise, Steve had started getting a little touchy with him. Steve had never really been standoffish, but he wasn’t really physical with other people. It was different with Loki, of course, and now apparently Clint. He’d gotten up early and made breakfast for everyone, and Clint had stumbled into the kitchen and Steve had given him a cup of coffee and a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. He’d sat down and Steve had slid his hand across Clint’s back and then gone to finish cooking breakfast for the rest of Clint’s family.

He decided not to say anything. Maybe it was a test or something. So Clint made some comment about Steve figuring out that food could actually have flavor and tucked in.

Loki had been gone for two days.

Lila and Cooper both stumbled downstairs and took the seats next to Clint, both of them yawning and leaning into his side. He gave each of them a piece of toast while Steve finished cooking. Laura brought Nate down a few minutes later and Steve handed her a cup of decaf coffee. She raised an eyebrow at him once his back was turned and Clint shrugged at her. He wasn’t going to turn down Captain America making him food, even if the bacon wasn’t cooked enough and the eggs were a little runny and the toast was a little burnt. At least Steve had figured out he could use salt and pepper.

Steve finished cooking and brought over a few plates and refilled Clint’s coffee and then sat down on the other side of the table with his own overfilled plate. Lila and Cooper split up their plates—bacon for Lila, eggs for Cooper—and then they all ate in comfortable quiet for a few minutes.

Laura broke the silence. “Any plans today?” she asked Clint, pulling down her shirt so Nate could begin feeding. 

Clint glanced at Steve, who was spreading the thinnest possible layer of butter on a piece of toast. “More of the same,” he answered quietly. “Just more memories. You?”

“We’re going to the zoo!” Cooper exclaimed, Lila nodding eagerly.

“Gramps and Granny are gonna pick us all up and take us,” Lila added in excitedly. “I wanna show Nate the tigers.”

Laura shook her head. “As long as you’re careful,” she hedged, and then looked at Steve. “You staying here or going to the zoo?”

Steve sighed and scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I’m still laying low,” he replied regretfully. “I’ve never been to a zoo, though.” He shot Laura a smile. “Maybe next time?”

Laura shrugged and pulled her shirt back up and laying Nate over her shoulder, patting him gently on the back. “Sounds fine to me. Kids, put your plates in the sink and go get dressed.” Lila and Cooper shoved away from the table and raced each other to the sink and then raced each other upstairs. Steve finished his own food and then leaned across the table to snag Clint’s plate and finish off his food. 

Laura rolled her eyes at them and stood up, pressed a kiss to Clint’s temple, and then took her own plate to the sink, finishing off her coffee as she went. She took Nate back upstairs and Clint waited until they heard the shower turn on before looking at Steve.

“You good, Cap?”

Steve shrugged. “You ready?”

Clint frowned at him but then shrugged. “Sure. Let’s clean up the kitchen.”

Steve shook his head and motioned towards Loki’s rooms. “Go shower. I’ll clean up.”

Clint shrugged again and pushed back from the table and stood up, swallowing the rest of his coffee before moving quickly into Loki’s rooms. He stripped next to the bed, leaving his hearing aids on the nightstand, and then ducked into the bathroom, turning on the shower and gathering up a few crystals and vials.

He stood under the hot water for a few minutes, breathing in the steam, closing his eyes underneath the water. There was a small waft of cold air but he figured it was just Steve checking himself out in the mirror or whatever.

However, a minute later, Steve pulled open the shower door and made to walk in.

“What the hell!” Clint exclaimed. “Steve, dude, what the fuck?”

Steve frowned at him. Clint picked up an Alfheim crystal from the shelf and activated it after pressing on the stone behind his ear, wincing at the sudden rush of sound. “Move over,” Steve told him. “I’ll wash your back.”

“Steve, I’m not showering with you,” Clint bit out, and pushed at Steve’s chest. “Wait your turn. Jesus, man.”

Steve continued to frown at him. “What’s wrong with it?”

“We need boundaries, Steve. You want me to give you a bath, fine. But I’m not showering with you. Jesus.” Clint shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatever the hell this is, figure it out. I’m not showering with you.”

Steve just frowned at him and then turned away, sitting on Loki’s vanity seat. He leaned his arms on his knees and clasped his hands. Clint slowly closed the shower door and rubbed his wet hands over his face after setting the Alfheim crystal down. What the _fuck._

He scrubbed shampoo in his hair and then rinsed, quickly soaped up his body, and then stood under the spray for another minute. He glanced through the cloudy glass and Steve was still sitting in front of the vanity. Why the fuck had Steve tried to get in the shower with him?

Clint hit the button to turn off the shower and Steve opened the door for him, towel in hand. Clint didn’t take it and just stood there.

“Whatever you’re trying to do, I’m not having it,” Clint told him after picking up the crystal again. “No showering together. I can’t believe that’s a boundary I have to put up, but I’m doing it.”

Steve frowned at him. “Why not?”

“How about you tell me why the hell you thought it was appropriate in the first place?”

Steve shrugged one shoulder and waved the towel. “Why not?” he said again.

“Are you a fucking parrot? Answer my question.”

Steve’s frown deepened. “Why does it _matter?_” he hissed out. “You said four thousand years, right? So why does a shower mean anything?”

Clint threw up his hands, nearly dropping the Alfheim crystal as he did. “Why doesn’t it _not_ mean anything?” he shot back. “Why do you two have to find every boundary I try to set and tear it down? Why can’t I take a fucking _shower_ by myself? Whatever your reasoning is, Cap, I don’t _care_. I’m not fucking showering with you.” He pushed past Steve and grabbed a towel off the rack and rubbed it through his hair and then wrapped it around his waist. “You better figure your shit out soon, dude. I’m not putting up with this. I’m using a veto.”

“Veto?” Steve asked, but Clint was already out of the bathroom. He released the spell on the Alfheim crystal after he cleaned out his ears and then slid his aids back in. He angrily threw the crystal at the wall and glared at it.

_You better come back soon,_ he sent to Loki as he hurriedly got dressed. _Steve’s going nuts._

He went into the kitchen to grab a cup of water and to call a goodbye to Laura and the kids as they all packed up and left for the day, and then went back into Loki’s rooms to curl up on the couch. 

_Perhaps the bond pulls at him? I know his emotions have been tumultuous of late._

Clint rolled his eyes. _There’s him being a little angry and there’s him trying to get in the shower with me._

“Excuse me?” Loki said out loud, appearing next to the couch, Tesseract in hand. Clint just sighed at him. _You mean to tell me he attempted to get in the shower with you?_

Clint rolled his eyes. _Yeah. He wouldn’t tell me why, either._

Loki’s face curdled into something resembling anger but was far darker and far more sinister. Something tight in Clint’s chest eased. Loki leaned over him and slid his fingers into Clint’s hair, tugging until he leaned his head back. _Did you offer to bathe him?_

_‘Course I did. He just wanted to shower._ Clint sagged into Loki’s touch so that Loki pulled on his hair harder. _You gonna ask him why?_

“Loki?” Steve said from the bedroom. “You’re back?”

Loki slid his hand out of Clint’s hair and crossed his arms. “Yes,” he said smoothly. “I came back upon request.” He stepped around the couch and leaned casually against the back of it, crossing his long arms over his chest. “Tell Loki what ails you.”

Steve tried to stay stoic but after just a moment, his face crumpled, and he sagged against the doorframe. Loki made a concerned noise that Clint didn’t believe for a minute and went to him. He herded Steve back into the bedroom and kicked the door shut. Clint rolled his eyes at them and grabbed his notebooks and pen from the coffee table.

He opened the purple notebook, seeing a message from Bruce. It was mostly shock about Clint remembering that Bruce and the Hulk had completed some sort of symbiosis and had merged in the first life. Clint remembered it happening a few other times, but that first time was the strongest. 

Before Clint could write out his reply, Loki tugged at his consciousness, and Clint closed his eyes, sinking down, and he jogged up the bridge between their minds, looking through Loki’s eyes. Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, towel around his waist, head in his hands. His chest heaved. Loki was leaning against the wall, arms still crossed over his chest, and he was doing his best to approximate a caring aura. It wasn’t working very well, in Clint’s opinion, but Steve didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m _lost,_” Steve breathed, voice ragged, and he looked up at Loki like he was a beacon of light in a dark world. “I don’t have purpose anymore. Who am I now?”

“Is this because you dropped the shield?”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. “I...no, not really. I was someone before the shield, I’m still someone without it. I just…” he trailed off, screwed the palms of his hands into his eyes, and Loki winced at the way his shoulders trembled. “I feel like I’m being pulled apart. There’s something deep inside me just yanking and ripping at me and I don’t know what to do.”

Loki frowned, tapped his lips with the tips of his fingers. “Seclusion,” he announced finally. “We will go to my cabin.”

“Where you and Buck…”

“Precisely. This sets my plans back, but it is clearly necessary. Clint, come here.”

Clint slid out of Loki’s mind and back into his own, shuddering at the feeling of seidr reshaping and moulding his body back in place. He pushed up off the couch and tripped over a blanket and managed to make it to the bedroom without breaking any bones. Did he still have bones? Loki used seidr to open the door for him while Clint was looking at one of his hands, doing best to laser through his skin to see if he had any bones left.

“You still have bones, you imbecile,” Loki hissed at him, and grabbed him by the shirt collar to drag him into the bedroom. 

Clint just rolled his eyes at him. Steve didn’t look up at him when Loki pushed Clint towards the bed. Clint clambered up and leaned against Steve’s side. “Cap,” Clint started, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing, “I know it sucks, alright? But that’s life. We have to keep moving forward. You two go into seclusion, I’ll keep on top of everything else here. You’ll get married, everything will go back to normal. Your soul will be able to rest.”

Steve sagged against him and lifted his head out of his hands to look blearily at Loki, who gave him a tight smile. “What bonds?” Steve rasped.

“We’ll have a month to talk about it.”

Steve looked like he was going to nod but then he shook his head. “No. We figure this out now.” He pushed Clint off of him and stood up, moving over to one of the closets to pull out an outfit for himself. “For whatever reason, Loki, you keep putting this conversation off. So, we’re doing this now.” He went into the living room and ignored Clint grumbling under his breath about being dragged from room to room. Loki glowered at him and then swept after Steve, conjuring up a chalice full of wine for himself. Clint groaned and dragged himself back to the living room, dropping to the floor at Loki’s feet once the god curled up in the armchair. Steve took the couch and sipped from the glass of water Clint had brought in earlier.

The three of them were quiet for a few minutes. Clint ended up grabbing his notebooks off the table and trying to figure out the next life he had to outline, while Loki wrestled with himself. 

“I don’t...remember,” Loki said softly. “Even after all this time, I don’t remember any of it. My body remembers you, but my mind does not. I don’t remember why I avoided this conversation the last time.”

“I do,” Clint interrupted. “You were scared.”

Loki thumped him on the back of the head. Clint rolled his eyes. 

“Scared?” Steve prompted. “Loki, you know yourself. You know why you would’ve been scared. So tell me. Nothing besides this is happening today until we figure this out.”

Loki reined in an annoyed grumble and settled in more firmly to the armchair, sipping at his wine. It took him awhile to build up the courage to speak, trying to convince himself not to run. He had the Tesseract, he could run forever. Finally, he started, voice slow and halting, “When I was young, Thor...he was all I had. Odin despised me, Frigga barely cared for me...Thor was always there, always keeping me safe. It was intentional, of course, all orchestrated, but I have so many memories of continually coming to the realization that I was alone in the realm except for Thor.” Clint nodded in agreement. 

“I wanted to be more, I wanted Thor to be more. I tried to run, over and over, until Thor pushed me down and I didn’t know how to stand. I suppose that is where the fear originates. It’s more of knowing that, even now, I am nothing without him.”

“Without Thor?” Steve asked, and Loki nodded in confirmation. “You killed him.”

“Aye,” Loki agreed, a bitter smile crossing his lips. “Cutting his throat was the greatest gift I ever gave myself. Yet I cannot run from myself, no matter how many times I’ve tried. So, Captain, I...I suppose I cannot imagine someone such as yourself wanting to irrevocably tie yourself to me. I am the God of Lies, after all, and you are Captain America.” He turned his head away from Steve and took a sip of wine. 

Clint turned to look at Steve, who looked completely shattered. Whatever he’d been dealing with, whatever problems he’d had, it had clearly all come up at once. The incomplete bonds between them were just making it all worse. God, poor guy. No wonder he’d tried to join Clint in the shower; he was probably desperate for any type of connection, his soul crying out for Loki, and when he couldn’t get him, he’d gone for Clint, who was as close to Loki as anyone could get. Geez.

“I know who you are,” Steve finally said, picking up the glass to take another sip of water. “I know what you are. I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. No matter what anyone else says, no matter what your own mind tells you, I just want you, exactly the way you are. Loki, I know I’ve said it before, but I love you. Whoever you are, whatever you are, whatever you’ve done, I’m in it for the long haul.” He snorted. “It’s not like I’m Captain America anymore, anyway. Tony took the shield back.”

Clint grimaced. “About that…”

Loki opened a pocket dimension and Clint reached in, fishing the shield out. He held it out. 

“If you want it,” Clint finished. “We’re perfectly happy to put it back. Or we can give it to someone else.”

“Someone else?” Steve echoed, hands curled into fists, eyes locked on his shield.

“Sam, probably,” Clint offered up. “Doubt Bucky wants it, and Sam’s just about as crazy as you, so he’s the best choice.”

Steve reached out for it and then stopped himself, fingers digging into his thighs. Loki turned his head and narrowed his eyes at him as Steve clearly fought with himself, with his sense of obligation and his need to help people and also his desire to just...rest, just for awhile. Not for long, just for a month.

“Do you not deserve a rest?” Loki said softly. “Do you not wish to spend time in seclusion with me?”

“More than anything,” Steve gasped out, and turned his head away. Clint slid the shield back into Loki’s pocket dimension and Loki closed it. “I only ever wanted to help. Just to do what’s right. I have to.”

“You can also rest,” Loki replied, his voice as gentle as Clint had ever heard it. He reached out and rested his hand on Steve’s knee. “Not for long. We go into seclusion, we marry, we stand up and we fight.”

Steve rubbed at his eyes. “We were supposed to be talking about you,” he said with a restrained gasp that sounded closer to a sob. “Loki...”

Loki stood and pulled Steve to his feet, wrapping long arms around the Captain’s waist. Steve pressed his face to Loki’s neck and held on for dear life. Loki exchanged a look with Clint and then pulled out the Tesseract. They vanished a moment later and Clint just laid out on the floor, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling.

Oh, hell. He’d forgotten to ask Steve about what had happened to Bucky’s family. Damn it.

* * *

* * *

Clint spent the next two days holed up in Loki’s rooms. He told Laura he had ‘some stuff to take care of’, which had gotten him an eye roll, then he’d sheepishly said hi to Laura’s parents and kissed all of his kids, and then he’d loaded up on chips and water and non-perishables and closed the creaking doors behind him. He dumped everything out on the coffee table, slid his hearing aids out of his ears, and turned the alerts off on his phone. He sat on the floor in front of the couch and closed his eyes.

He was about to start meditating when he remembered Bucky’s family. Fuck. Okay, he could Google, hack some databases. He tapped through sites on his phone and grimaced. One of his sisters had died in the 80s in a car crash, and another had died six months before Bucky had escaped from HYDRA. Six months. Damn. The last sister was in a nursing home, but she had Alzheimer’s. Clint found her files and read through them, sighing sadly as he did. He had a few nieces and nephews, along with grand-nieces and -nephews, but Clint didn’t even know if any of them had ever been told about Bucky. 

He sent the information to Sam, who could figure out how to tell Bucky that his only surviving immediate relative wasn’t likely to know him, and tossed his phone onto the couch. Clint rubbed at his temples and leaned his head back against the couch. He sunk down.

His mind was full of memories, some of them his, some of them Loki’s. As he got deeper in them, deeper inside the various lives he’d lived, all hundreds or thousands of them, the more he found himself. He saw himself in every imaginable situation, saw himself living every type of life, saw himself as every iteration possible. He was Hawkeye in all of them, because that was who he was, but he was different versions of Hawkeye. He looked different in some realities, too. Everyone did.

He didn’t know what number it was, how many times Loki had been killed and Thor and Frigga had restarted the cycle. There wasn’t a way for him to tell. But he was still Clint Barton, still clumsy and sarcastic and a dead-eye shot and not his own. He was single in this life. He’d met Laura before SHIELD found him, hadn’t given her a chance to ask him out, and there hadn’t really been anyone else since her. He’d tried with Nat, he’d tried with Bobbi, he’d tried and he’d tried and he’d tried. 

Currently, Clint was watching not-Clint dig around in his fridge for dinner. He could fast forward the memories, go back through every single second, start from birth and then go until the precise moment that Thor killed Loki. For whatever reason, none of the timelines, besides the first, went past Loki’s death. He supposed it was because of whatever magic Thor and Frigga had used. Some of the lives only lasted minutes. Some of them started in different places, depending on how far Thor had gone back, but Clint could see everything that came before.

All of the Clints had nearly identical childhoods. Sometimes Barney wouldn’t go to prison, sometimes their parents died in a car crash instead of him and Barn running away, sometimes he didn’t meet Laura, sometimes he met a man before Laura came around. It seemed he was always in the circus, he was always recruited by SHIELD, and he was always, always Loki’s. Even when the god never came to Earth, even when the god came to Earth and didn’t use the Mind Stone on him, even when the god came to Earth and met him and didn’t _know_ him. 

Not-Clint threw himself onto the couch and pulled his hearing aids out of his ears, rubbing the ache out of them. He stared up at the ceiling. Clint stepped up next to him and looked down at his counterpart. He looked similar, a few more scars, his hair lighter, his nose a different shape. 

He stepped back and sped up time. 

It was only days until Thor killed Loki and this other-Clint stopped existing. Same with all of the other Clint’s, he could see how Thor killed Loki, because in the moment before the timeline stopped, Clint would fall to his knees and clutch whatever body part Thor had destroyed to take Loki’s life. This time, this depressed and sullen Clint crumpled down the stairs and grabbed his forehead. 

The timeline ended.

The next one didn’t last long. Thor left Loki in prison on Asgard, joined the Avengers. The six of them were in Sokovia, and they bashed through a wall, all bloody and sweaty and every damn one of them was more dead than alive, more grit and gristle than person.

“Ultron,” Thor said. “We would have words with thee.”

Clint didn’t want to watch anymore.

He stepped into the next one, smoothed down the wrinkles in time, made sure it was progressing forward, and stepped back to watch. This time, he and Laura had divorced. He still had the farm, and he didn’t have anyone to go home to, so he was even more reckless and uncaring on missions. This time, HYDRA kidnapped him.

Clint watched as his counterpart was tortured beyond imagine, as his mind was erased, as they tried to program him into another Winter Soldier. They gave him a modified super-soldier serum that had him screaming even when they put him in a coma. He finally wore his voice out and whimpered until they loaded him up with enough pain meds to take down an elephant. Then, they woke up Bucky, and didn’t give him a mission, just put him in a room with an unconscious Clint.

Clint watched as Bucky watched him.

Then, Bucky turned his head, sunken eyes blinking slowly. He caught Clint’s reflection in the two-way glass and frowned at him. Clint gaped at him. In however many lives, no one had ever seen him before.

“Who are you?” Bucky asked in stilted Russian. “Are you him?”

He didn’t know what to say. There were a thousand things he could tell this Bucky, none of which would help him. Clint didn’t even know if Bucky could even understand him. Even if he could say something, Bucky would forget it the next time they erased him. Clint just reached out for him, his ephemeral hand passing through Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky just looked at him in that strange hollow way of his. 

“You need to run,” Clint finally said. “Run and don’t ever let them stop you. Whatever they’ve done to you, it’s only gonna get worse. So you need to run.”

Bucky frowned at him and then turned his attention back to the not-Clint on the cot. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Thor killed Loki, and everything went dark.

Clint swore under his breath and pulled himself out of his mind completely, panting in the dark. He still couldn’t hear anything, which was a relief; it meant he was in his own time, in his own body, in his own home. He wondered how many times HYDRA had tried to turn him into another Winter Soldier, wondered how many times Steve had fallen instead of Bucky, wondered how many things were meant to be one way but had gone another. He wondered how many moments were lost because of Thor. He supposed it didn’t matter, not really. 

He supposed it was inevitable. Everything was meant to lead here, to the time where Clint was finally where he belonged and where they were finally going to defeat Thanos, no matter what. 

He got up and stretched and turned on a light, going back to the coffee table and drinking some water. Clint paged through one of his notebooks and sighed. So far, he hadn’t even seen Thanos in any of his timelines. He hadn’t met Thor or Loki either. 

He finished off the water and tore open a bag of chips. He ate his way through half the bag while going through Bruce’s letter of the day.

_Clint—_

_The librarian, Wong, gave me a few books relating to time loops. They’re really taking this Thanos thing seriously over there; apparently there are a few possible futures, and from what I can tell, most of them aren’t good. I didn’t ask about how many we win. I don’t think I want to know._

_Here’s what I understand from the books: there are different types of time loops. They can vary from moments to entire years. They can include small pockets of time that are just one or two people, or they can include entire worlds. Thor seems to have manipulated time in such a way that recreates an entire world that only exists within the spell. He and Frigga were the only ones aware of the spell. Also different than other spells, Thor seemed to exert no will over anyone in the time loop. He merely let everyone live out their lives. It’s very strange._

_Oh, on that topic—a guy named Strange started at Kamar-Taj today. His name is Stephen Strange. Feel like I’ve heard that name somewhere._

_Good luck,_  
_Bruce_

Clint sighed and rubbed his forehead. Great. Just great. 

He closed his purple notebook and checked the time on his phone and read the texts from Sam.

_Thanks, Barton. Never thought to look myself. I’ll let you know if I tell him._

Then, two hours later:

_He wants to see his sister. You mind setting that up for us?_

Clint sighed again. _No problem,_ he sent back. _I’ll call them tomorrow._

He tossed his phone back onto the couch and closed his eyes. 

He sunk down into another memory, this time where Steve had been pulled out of the ice in the 1990s and was a SHIELD asset. They kept teaming Hawkeye and Captain America up, and the two of them slowly began spending time with each other outside of missions. Eventually, after Clint had bought the apartment building in Bed-Stuy from the tracksuit mafia, he waited until there were two vacant apartments next to each other and turned it into a deluxe suite and invited Steve to move in with him.

Clint watched in shock as not-Clint fell in love with Steve.

He watched as Thor and Loki came to Earth and as not-Clint slept next to Steve and dreamed about black hair and green eyes. He watched as his other self tried to understand something that was never meant for him. He watched as Loki inadvertently ruined the most loving relationship this version of Clint had ever known. He watched as Steve moved out of their apartment and one night, a year after he’d come to Earth, Loki knocked on Clint’s door.

Loki walked in and looked around, and Clint saw not-Clint’s knees tremble.

_He won’t understand,_ Clint wanted to tell himself. _You’re going to go to your knees and he’s going to think it’s something it’s not. You’re going to tell him that you dream about him and he’s not going to understand._

Instead, Loki sat on the couch, and carefully, not-Clint sat next to him.

Loki waved his hand at the TV and it flickered on. Slowly and cautiously, as Loki studiously ignored him, over the next few hours, Clint slumped down on the couch until his head was in Loki’s lap. Long fingers pet through his hair.

“I am sorry,” Loki said, and he wiped away Clint’s silent tears. “Hopefully he will return to you.”

“He won’t,” not-Clint sobbed. “He was the best thing I ever had and I spent so much time trying to figure you out that I drove him away. He was all I ever wanted. I _loved_ him.”

“I know,” Loki said, attempting to be soothing. “I wish I had never come to Earth.”

Awhile later, when it was more morning than night, Loki left, leaving not-Clint asleep on the couch.

Clint never got to see if not-Clint and Steve ever reconciled, for Thor killed Loki the second he returned.

He jerked awake and breathed heavily into the dark. Clint scrubbed his hands through his hair. Alright. Not telling anyone about that one. 

He decided to go to bed.

When he slept, he dreamed about being the Clint who only felt safe in Captain America’s arms.

* * *

He didn’t know how many lives it had been when Clint finally found Thanos. He’d lived through life upon life, through anything imaginable, through many more things that were unimaginable. 

He’d seen himself choose Loki over anyone else. He’d watched himself, or an iteration of himself, decide to turn on the Avengers when Loki had been shattered beneath the Hulk’s hands. He’d turned on them and shot Tony Stark in the side and had nearly taken one of Natasha’s eyes out, and Loki had pushed to his feet and summoned the Tesseract and the two of them had disappeared.

Clint remembered Loki saying, _I wonder how that timeline would’ve gone differently if you’d stayed with me,_ and now he knew the answer. It would’ve gone very differently. That Clint and Loki had the Tesseract, had skipped from planet to planet for years, always one step ahead of Thanos, until Thor had caught up with them. He’d watched Thor crush Loki’s throat with his bare hands, helpless to do anything to stop him, Mjolnir on his chest.

He’d thought he’d dreamt most of these various lives. He realized now he’d seen a fraction of a fraction of the various lives he’d lived, of the timelines Thor had dragged them through. Thousands was a low estimate. He’d thought that he had Loki had only come together once or twice before Loki had found him in this timeline.

Clint watched as his own life proved him wrong.

They’d been pulled together _hundreds_ of times. There’d been times where Loki escaped from Thor and had come to Earth to kidnap him, with varying degrees of success. Every time Thor saw them together, he killed one of them. Sometimes, he would kill Clint first, really make him suffer, electrocute him and break his bones with Mjolnir, and once he was dead, he would kill Loki. Clint watched as Thor became crueller and colder, more convinced that every Loki only wanted to run from him, more convinced that the only thing he could do to defeat Thanos was to bind Loki so tightly to him that he couldn’t breathe without Thor. 

There were times, of course, where Clint and Loki never came together. But they were still irrevocably bound. In those lives, Clint was listless, doing his job as well as he could, but there was always something missing. 

There were a few times where Clint, for whatever reason, didn’t join SHIELD. Either they never found him, or he didn’t agree to their terms, or he pretended to agree and then escaped from under their noses. Hell, a few times HYDRA found him first and set him up to be a double agent for them within SHIELD, or they made him an Asset like Barnes or turned him into an assassin. Wasn’t like his duties under SHIELD weren’t really HYDRA missions anyway. A few times, he didn’t leave the circus, or he joined up with a different one. One time, he quit the circus altogether, and became a barista at a coffee shop. It just so happened to be the one that Steve Rogers liked to frequent.

Because that version of Clint was every bit of an idiot as regular Clint, he didn’t even recognize him. What, like he watched the news? So, that Clint became friends with Steve without realizing he was _Steve_. He always gave the guy a medium coffee when he paid for a small, and sometimes gave him a free croissant. Because it was Steve, he thought after a while that Clint was flirting with him. Which, well, he was. Clint flirted with everyone. But Steve had to embarrassingly admit that he was just trying to get used to the 21st century, that he didn’t want to date anyone, that it was just hard enough trying to figure out stuff like iPhones and computers and politics without bringing in someone else to the mix.

Then, that Steve had disappeared for awhile, sending Clint into a self-destructive spiral of drinking too much coffee and eating too much pizza and not sleeping enough. Then, when Steve returned, it was with his quiet and traumatized friend Bucky, who Clint had fallen in love with almost immediately. Bucky had thought that Clint was in love with Steve, and Clint had thought that Bucky was also in love with Steve, and it took a very long, very drunk conversation between the two of them a year after they met to finally find the truth of all of it.

Loki hadn’t been in that world at all, but, like all the others, his death ended it.

Two timelines later, Thanos.

In that timeline, Sam Wilson was Captain America. Steve had retired after Tony took his shield and also one of his legs, and after awhile, Tony ended up leaving the shield with Sam. Clint had been in a quasi-retirement where he hadn’t really known what to do with himself without Steve and SHIELD around, and Sam had pulled him out of it.

In that same timeline, Clint was Captain America’s sidekick. They fought together, they ate together, and, after awhile, they slept together. After another awhile, Sam proposed. And Clint, of course, accepted. Captain America wanted to marry him, of course he was going to lock that shit down before Sam could get any ideas about looking at other folks. 

They’d been married for two months when Thanos came to Earth, bringing a horribly scarred and horribly beaten Loki with him. He’d dragged Loki before him and had told the terrified citizens of Earth that this was their fate if they did not give him what he wanted. 

Sam and Clint had stood before Thanos, who had raised his gauntlet and pressed his fist to Loki’s temple. They hadn’t known his name at the time, of course, but they learned it later. The Power Stone glowed and Loki shrieked in the way that someone who long ago reached the end of their tether shrieks. Clint shot Thanos in the eye with an arrow, which incapacitated him long enough that Clint managed to get Loki away from Thanos and into an ambulance. They’d taken him to the hospital, where Clint had sat at his bedside until Loki had woken.

Loki looked around the room, eyes bloodshot and swollen. His gaze landed on Clint, and then on the wedding ring on his finger.

“What’s their name?” he rasped.

“Sam,” Clint said easily, an unconscious smile crossing his face. Loki let out a deep, pained sigh.

“Do you love him?”

“More than anything.”

Loki swallowed, eyes on the ceiling. “If he was in my place,” he gasped out, and Clint could see his heart beating in his chest, “would you kill him?”

Clint didn’t even have to think about it. “If he asked,” he replied, and Loki reached out a hand.

In that life, Loki’s life did not end because of Thor. Instead, Clint gave him the mercy no one else had, and let him go.

Because Thor didn’t end Loki’s life, the timeline didn’t end immediately. It lasted just long enough for Sam to join Clint in the hospital room and press a kiss to Clint’s forehead and slide his hand across Clint’s shoulders.

“Did you…” Sam trailed off.

Clint sighed. “He’s at peace,” he said softly. “That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, and it went dark.

Clint decided he didn’t want to look at anymore memories today. So he got up, ate a couple protein bars, and went into the bathroom to shower the stress sweat off him. He quickly rinsed off and then just stood under the hot water for awhile, head bowed. Maybe he didn’t have to do this anymore. Maybe he could just...stop. Just not look at all the lives he’d lived and all the chances he’d missed and all the horrible, horrible things Loki had suffered through and continued to suffer. He just didn’t want to see it anymore.

_What ails you?_ Loki asked him, carding gentle fingers through Clint’s mind. He shuddered.

_Too many memories,_ he said back, leaning against the side of the shower. _Just tired._

Loki hummed in his mind and Clint shivered, turning off the shower and getting out, grabbing a towel and scrubbing himself down. _With our time together, Steve seems back to his old self. I am glad of it._

_Thank God,_ Clint muttered, running another towel through his hair. _He was getting weird._

Loki gave a soft, amused snort. _How goes your memory search?_

He didn’t want to talk about it. He really didn’t want to talk about it. So, of course, he talked about it. _It kind of really sucks, to be honest. There are so many lives I missed out on, so many realities where I was happy._

Loki went frigid. _Do you prefer them?_

Clint rolled his eyes. _Of course not, you idiot. It just...it sucks. I don’t like seeing myself like that._

_Happy?_

That wasn’t quite right. Clint went into the bedroom and threw himself on the bed, stretching out over the blankets. _Not exactly. More like...not myself. I know I lived all those lives, but it feels invasive to watch them. I’m not unhappy, you know. But I wasn’t a different level or different kind of happy in any other life._ He rubbed at his ears. _Loki, what Thor did...cruel isn’t even a word for it. It’s disgusting. It’s beyond awful. Those were_ people _in those realities, and he just ended them, and for what? To get you? I don’t even know how many timelines I am deep and I’ve seen him once. Maybe it was to get Thanos at first, but it morphed and contorted and twisted into something evil. It’s fucking awful._

Loki didn’t say anything for long enough for Clint to slip into a doze.

Finally, the bed dipped next to him, and Clint turned his face into Loki’s lap. Long fingers gently carded through his short hair. _Thor was a monster,_ Loki murmured, brushing his fingers over Clint’s face. _He deserved a far worse death than the one I gave him._

Clint nodded in agreement. Loki moved around the bed so that he was leaning against the headboard and Clint curled up with his head buried in Loki’s stomach, Loki gently sliding his fingers down Clint’s head and over his shoulders and back again. 

_Have you talked bonds yet?_ Clint asked tiredly, cuddling closer. 

He could feel that Loki sighed even though he couldn’t hear it. _Somewhat,_ Loki murmured. _He wishes for a similar bond to the one you and I share. However, I have no information on if minds can even sustain two such similar bonds. So I have been busy researching, which has made Steve unhappy. But he has made the attempt to understand, even though his...what is the colloquialism? His fuse is short._

Clint shrugged. He couldn’t do anything about that. His eyes slid shut, and aided by Loki’s fingers dancing over his face and down his neck and through his hair, he quickly fell asleep.

He awoke to darkness, and to an empty bed. Clint stretched and groaned and then sagged into the mattress. He probably should go join his family. He could take a day off from memories. 

He dressed himself and slid his hearing aids back in and winced at the sound of the world coming alive around him. Clint yawned and stretched and left Loki’s rooms. 

To see Fury and Coulson sitting at his kitchen table. 

For a moment, he considered going to Loki’s cabin. He could sleep outside or on the floor or wherever. He wanted to deal with this less than he wanted to deal with more timelines. 

So, of course, Clint swaggered into the kitchen and got a cup of coffee for himself. He didn’t look at either of the men sitting at his kitchen table when he said, “Sure is interesting that you two show up now. Could’ve used you with the whole Accords thing.”

“We had to lay low,” Fury said, his deep voice echoing around the room. Clint turned and leaned back against the counter, cradling his mug in both hands. “Wasn’t our fight.”

Clint took that into consideration and thought about that. He wanted to say, _Don’t ever remember you giving me that option_, or, _How come we had to fight and we had to lose and now I’m on house arrest, technically?_ or _Must’ve been nice, to be able to run._ But he just shrugged and didn’t say any of those things. “Did either of you sign it?”

“Technically I’m retired,” Coulson piped up. “Heard you were too.”

“That’s why you’re here? Retirement party?”

“We need your help,” Fury interjected before Clint could get any worse. 

Clint thought about it. He motioned to his ankle, where he was still wearing the house arrest bracelet. He wasn’t sure how it worked, exactly, since Loki had dragged him all over the galaxy, but it wasn’t like Clint was complaining. 

“That can be taken care of,” Fury told him, and Clint set his coffee mug down on the counter and crossed his arms. “Tell us you’ll help and we’ll get it removed.”

Clint gave a dry chuckle. “You know I’m not the fresh-faced agent who was too scared of being locked in a cage to deny you anything anymore, right? There’s no leverage here, Fury. You tell me what you want and I decide if I care enough to want to help.” He looked at Coulson with that last sentence, Coulson who’d been with him since the beginning, Coulson who’d dragged him in from the muck and the mud and made him clean. “You should really tell him that shit doesn’t work on me anymore, Phil.” Clint called him Phil, because, well, who was gonna stop him?

Coulson didn’t say anything, which wasn’t more than Clint was expecting. He just glanced at Fury and the two men had a quick conversation with their eyebrows and Clint just looked at the two of them. He could wait. He had time, more time than anyone realized. Hell, Clint could post up here and just wait until they starved to death. 

Finally, Fury opened his mouth, and when he talked, it sounded like a giant hitting stones together. “We have information about Thaddeus Ross and his connections with HYDRA.”

“Is that so,” Clint said quietly. “Huh, sure would be great if you had a Captain America around to take care of that for you, wouldn’t it?” He rubbed at his chin. “You know, we already knew that. You see, there was a Chair in the lower levels of the Raft. Looked real similar to the one HYDRA used on Barnes. So I looked into it. One of Ross’s assistants had ties to HYDRA. That’s how they got that Chair there, and that’s how they injected Loki with that curse potion. So, again, what do you two want?”

Fury continued to glare at him. “Clint, you’re going to help us. Don’t make this difficult for yourself.”

Clint smiled at him, showing all his teeth. “Difficult for myself? Agent, I was _born_ difficult for myself.”

Coulson held up a hand before the two of them started punching each other. “You’re still an agent of SHIELD, retirement or otherwise. You don’t get to stop serving your country just because you wanted a break. We still have information on you that you wouldn’t want getting in the wrong hands, Clint.”

Clint rubbed at his chin. “Is that so,” he muttered. “Let me understand what you’re getting at here. You want me to abandon the hunt for Thanos, who is easily the biggest villain that any of us have ever faced, who wants to rid the universe of half of all life, to go do some recon and find an agent of HYDRA that I already killed a couple months ago?”

“He’s dead?” Coulson asked, staying as placid as ever as his fingers quickly flicked through the files in front of him. “You killed Paul Remond?”

“Was that his name?”

Coulson held up a picture of the man that Clint had gutted and garotted in his own bed in the dead of night during the month that Loki had been unconscious. He’d taken the Tesseract and he’d gone to Midgard, and he hadn’t left until he got all of the information he wanted. He’d killed a lot more than that one guy, too. “Sure looks like him,” Clint agreed. “Funny how you’ve known me for a couple of decades, Phil, and you wouldn’t have realized I would’ve already taken care of the problem.”

Coulson and Fury exchanged glances and Fury pushed to his feet and left the room. Coulson waved him to the table as the porch door slammed. Clint poured himself another cup of coffee and then sat.

“What happened?” Coulson asked softly. 

Clint looked at him. Coulson had been his handler ever since he’d been dragged into SHIELD headquarters and thrown into an interrogation room and told that he was either going to jail or going to join them. He’d spit in the face of the nameless agent who’d tried to threaten him and he’d told them he’d rather die. It’d been Coulson that had promised him he’d be able to help, that he’d make a difference in the world. Coulson had turned him into an asset, something of use. If there were any humans that Clint trusted, Coulson was one of them. Or he had been. Probably not anymore. 

“What do you think?” Clint asked back. “He hurt someone I care about. He’s lucky I let him live that long.”

Coulson nodded. “You’ve changed.”

“So have you,” Clint shot back. But then, he thought about it. “Was I not supposed to? You really wanted me to be the same guy? Phil, c’mon.”

“Clint, it’s not a bad thing. I’m glad to see it. I’m just realizing that I looked away for a minute and you became someone I don’t know.”

_I’m still the same guy,_ he wanted to say. _I’m still Clint._ But he didn’t. It didn’t matter, not really. Not the way Coulson thought it mattered. Instead, he asked, “Phil, why weren’t you at the Accords meeting?”

Coulson sighed at him. Clint had been on the other end of a lot of those sighs. “We were barred from any of the negotiations,” he finally told him. “Officially, the reason was conflict of interests. Unofficially, Ross could’ve forced our hand and made the two of us sign it. So we stayed out of it. Clint...I never would’ve let you do that alone, if I’d had a choice. Any of you.” He shook his head.

Clint rubbed at his chin. He probably shouldn’t believe Coulson, but he did. “At least you warned us about it,” he sighed. “Would’ve sucked to get blindsided over that.”

“He saved thousands of lives, you know,” Coulson said, apropos of nothing. “Loki did. Our projections indicated that between 90 and over 3200 people could have lost their lives. Instead, it was ten, one of which was Pietro Maximoff.” Clint didn’t bother trying to hide the way his shoulders stiffened at that name. “If there was HYDRA infiltration in Ross’s quarters, then there was HYDRA influence in the drafting of the Accords.”

“I thought the entire organization was dismantled. That’s why we started the Avengers, that’s why we went private, to make damn certain there were none of them left.”

Coulson shook his head, slid a file across the table. Clint opened it, read through it, and closed it again. He deliberated about it for a minute and then slid the file back.

“Sure would be nice if you had a Captain America to take care of that, huh,” Clint mused.

Coulson didn’t say anything, just pushed to his feet, gathered his various papers and files, and left the house. A few minutes later, Clint heard the sound of the Quinjet over head, and then he spent twenty minutes looking around the kitchen for the listening devices he knew they would’ve left. He found three and crushed two of them.

Then he stepped outside and made a few calls.

* * *

Bruce Banner set down a tea tray on the table between them and poured out steaming water over the tea leaves. He looked uncomfortable, but he always looked uncomfortable. 

“I was kidding, by the way,” Clint spoke up, watching Bruce sit down across from him. They were in the New York Sanctum, surrounded by bookshelves and priceless artifacts, sitting at a table that Loki had spent months at, in another lifetime. “The text, it was a joke.”

“No, I got that,” Bruce told him, handing Clint a teacup. “I’m here about something else.” He picked up his own cup and blew carefully across the top of it. “I did think the Hulk being Captain America would be funny though.”

“Right?” Clint grinned at him. “We should try it. Just once.”

Bruce smiled slightly at him in the way a lot of people had smiled at Clint. Like they were going to ask him to do something he didn’t want to do, or like he was going to get some very, very bad news. “Clint,” Bruce started, and he paused, looking torn. “I have a favor to ask you.”

Clint took a sip of tea and almost spit it out, grimacing as he swallowed. “Is the favor ‘please tell me where to get better tea’, because what the hell, man?”

“Clint.”

“Yeah, Doc, alright. What do you need?”

Bruce looked down at the table top, brushed his fingers over the grains of the wood, over the stains and the smears of ink and the long history embedded within. “The Ancient One looked into my future. She saw...she saw destruction beyond magnitude. Beyond comprehension.”

Very carefully, Clint set his teacup down. He didn’t like where this was going. 

“She saw the Hulk standing over every one of my friends, saw them all bloodied and _dead_ and saw what the Hulk had done. She said that was my future, Clint.”

“The future isn’t written in stone,” Clint told him, almost desperately. “You can change it. You can always change it.”

Bruce shook his head, didn’t look up from the table, fingers tracing a knot in the wood. “The Ancient One told me that certain things are eventualities, that they always come to pass, no matter how we fight them. Clint, even if there’s the _slightest_ chance, I’m talking one in a million, one in ten million, whatever it is, I can’t take the risk. I can’t be the cause of hurting anyone else. I killed _Nat_, Clint. I killed you, I killed Tony, I killed Loki, I killed Cap. I killed _everyone_. My hands or the Hulk’s hands, it’s all the same.”

“What are you asking me, Bruce?” Clint said carefully, keeping his voice soft. “I want you to be sure about this.”

“If you think I’m going to do that, if you think the Hulk is going to come out and kill everyone, I need you to take me out.” Bruce looked up and stared Clint dead in the eye. “I need you to kill me.”

“Why me?” Clint asked instead of _You know I can’t_, or _I could never kill you_, or any other thousand paltry excuses he could’ve used. He and Bruce might not have ever been the closest friends, but they knew each other well enough. 

“When it comes down to it, you can live with it. You can live with making that choice.” He reached into his coat pocket and put a small box onto the table. “Clint, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“You know I’m already married, right? Starting a proposal with ‘_I’m sorry_’ is usually considered bad form.” Carefully, Clint reached across the table and opened it. 

Oh.

“I designed it,” Bruce told him. “Made it in Tony’s lab. Made a video recording of me making it, talked about how if I was ever found dead with this in my brain, that it was you who put it there, and that I’d asked you to.”

“Does Tony know?”

Bruce snorted, almost amused, and shook his head. He took another sip of tea. “Of course not. He’d lose his mind. You know Tony. He’d come up with some fantastical rage-monitoring bracelet or earring or what-have-you, and I’d wear it, but we both know it wouldn’t do anything. It wouldn’t _help._”

“Have you asked anyone else?” Clint picked up the arrowhead and held it in his palm. He thought about how he’d asked Nat why Bruce had essentially ended any potential relationship between them before it even started, how Bruce had said he was _busy._

Bruce shook his head. 

“The only other person I considered was Loki,” he said softly, an amused slant twisting his lips. “But I figured he’d just kill me right then and there, just because he could.”

Clint nodded, slid the arrowhead back into the box, snapped the top back on, and clasped his hands in front of it. “Why me?” he asked again. 

“I trust you,” Bruce said simply. He took another sip of tea, like they were discussing the weather and not Clint theoretically shooting him in the head. “You’re kind of the seedy underbelly of the Avengers. Nat stays out in the spotlight, you do all the dirty work. And I know out of everyone, you won’t miss. If I know anything about you, it’s that.”

“You think about talkin’ to a therapist?”

Bruce shook his head. “I have a Phd in psychology,” he reminded Clint, “and I have in the past. It doesn’t help. This is the only option.” Clint didn’t know about that, but he wasn’t sure it was his place to know about those kinds of things. 

“You know I’m retired, right?”

“That’s why you’re scouting out possible new Captain America’s for Coulson?”

Clint grimaced. “I’m busy, then. I got a lot of shit on my plate.”

“I know, Clint, and again, I’m sorry. But I can’t ask anyone else. You’re the only one I trust.”

“You better not be lying about that video recording,” Clint muttered, and he slid the small box into his pocket dimension. “Alright, Bruce,” he sighed. “I’m not gonna kill you _just_ for Hulking out, though. If I think you’re going to kill us, any of us, then I’ll take you down.”

Bruce nodded. “That’s all I can ask for.”

“Asking for a lot,” Clint reminded him, standing up and pulling out the Tesseract. “Asking for a fuckin’ big thing here, bud. And here I thought you were gonna propose.”

Bruce smiled up at him, a bit sad, a bit relieved. “Maybe next time.”

Clint nodded and activated the Tesseract.

* * *

Clint sunk down into the bath, just his nose and eyes poking up over the bubbles. He sighed through his nose and closed his eyes.

He'd been thinking about Steve's vision at Hjalmar's cabin. It was easiest for Clint to follow his own various lives, and second easiest for him to follow Loki, and if he put some real effort in, he could follow Thor. It took more effort, and he couldn't exactly scroll through the length of Thor's life like he could his own, but he could jump around easily enough. He'd been trying to find where Steve had seen Thor waiting on the strange planet, but it wasn't _anywhere_.

Whatever spell Thor and Frigga had used, it had made it nearly impossible for Clint to track them. Of course, Clint thought that they hadn't figured someone with his absolute and kind of unreasonable tenacity would be trying to figure out their big scheme or whatever, so Clint managed to power through the inherent resistance in the spells. He'd always been kind of a stubborn bastard.

If was for Loki, he would do anything.

Clint's biggest question through all of this had been _why_. Why had Thor and Frigga done all this? Had she somehow foreseen Thor being unable to defeat Thanos? Now that he was thinking about it, maybe it made more sense that Thor had recruited her in a different timeline or loop or _whatever_ and had somehow figured out how to pull her along with him. Maybe. They were both dead, after all. Even if they somehow got their hands on Thor's soul from Hela, souls were mute.

He began with a life where that version of him was in some kind of allies-with-benefits thing with Natasha. He didn't want to say friends, as they barely managed to talk to each other without arguing to trying to stab each other, but the sex was fucking fantastic. Thor had brought Loki to Earth and the two of them were helping the Avengers. Clint stood next to not-Clint and the two of them watched as Loki brought a plate of food to Thor and then stood awkwardly next to him as Thor ate. Not-Clint shook his head—even when he didn't know he was Loki's, Thor's treatment of him always disgusted him—and turned his attention back to his coffee.

Clint stepped around this version of himself and walked up to Thor. The God of Thunder stiffened as he approached but did not seem to consciously know he was there.

Clint paused as he thought. He didn't know enough about time spells and seidr to know how much timelines overlapped, or if they did at all. Maybe everything was happening all at once and Thor figured out how to step between time streams? Maybe that was just a bunch of nonsense. He had no idea. He was really just guessing at every step here.

He reached out and laid his hand on Thor's arm. His hand went through Thor's skin but Clint managed to brush up against the god's seidr and grab hold of it. He tugged at it until he felt its roots in Yggdrasil, which then led back to Asgard. Clint stepped through and landed in the Observatory.

He was really just guessing and assuming shit worked and was pretty much always surprised when it did.

Heimdall glanced over him but Clint wasn't sure if the Watcher truly saw him. He thought about doing something funny to see if Heimdall could see him, but decided against it, and made his way down the Bifrost bridge and to the palace. He didn't really know what he was looking for, but he kept that bit of Thor's seidr in his hand and figured it would lead him where he needed to go. Hopefully Thor kept a diary that was labed 'My Big Evil Plans' or 'Why I Want To Fuck My Little Brother' or 'Here's All The Reasons I Had For Making A Time Loop Or Whatever It Is' or 'Here's All The Information You Want, Clint'.

Well, a guy could hope.

He went to Thor's rooms first.

Of course, before he could begin looking, Thor killed Loki, and the world went dark.

In the moment before it ended, there was a small glimmer of light from under Thor's bed, but Clint wasn't quick enough to see what it was. He jumped into the next life, ran up from the dungeons where Loki was being kept, and jumped under Thor's bed, but there were only Asgardian dust bunnies (Clint tried to come up with a joke about dust bilgesnipes but it didn't land even with himself) and a old nasty towel. He sat on the floor and thought about it.

He knew he wasn't manipulating the other dimensions or loops or whatever by looking at them. They'd already happened, or were happening, or whatever. He wasn't a time genius. But maybe Thor, while he was still alive, could sense that someone was interfering. Maybe. Again, he had no real idea.

God, he needed to talk to someone about this.

Clint jumped to the next life without waiting for Loki to die. He hung around Asgard for awhile, trying to see if Thor and Frigga talked at all, but it seemed like they were actively avoiding each other. He tried to jump through a few more timelines, but the mediation fell apart. He opened his eyes and frowned to himself, and then squeezed them shut again and sunk back underneath the water.

* * *

The nursing home looked like every nursing home Clint had ever seen on TV. Shady Acres Retirement Home. Huh. Sam and Bucky were standing in the parking lot, probably planning world destruction or talking about shampoo. Clint waved awkwardly at them and then ducked inside, giving the receptionist a sheepish smile.

“I’m here to see Rebecca Barnes,” he said, and handed over his ID. “I also have a couple friends with me.”

The receptionist nodded and handed back his ID. “I’ll call her nurse,” he said, and waved Clint off to some chairs on the far wall. Clint shrugged and sat down. A minute later, Sam and Bucky came in, Bucky the color of curdled milk and Sam looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. But they were here. Hopefully it went well. Clint wasn’t really sure why he had to be there, though.

The nurse was a small, petite thing, with long black hair and dark eyes and pink fingernails. She introduced herself as Carol and when Bucky didn’t seem inclined to say anything, Clint jumped up and stuck out his hand. “I’m Clint,” he said. “These are my friends, Sam and Bucky.” He thumbed at each one of them in turn and shook her hand. “How’s Rebecca doing today?”

Carol led them down a hall and to an elevator. They waited for the doors to open while Carol asked, “She’s had better days, of course. But she’s mostly aware of her surroundings today, which is always a good sign. She remembered what day it is and all of the staff’s names. Becca’s a firecracker.” Bucky let out a choked sound and covered his mouth with his hand. “So, how do you three know her?”

Bucky didn’t say anything, and Sam just shrugged. Clint rolled his eyes. Jesus Christ, these two. “She’s family,” he said finally, as the three of them got onto the elevator. “An aunt.”

“That’s lovely,” Carol said. “She hasn’t had any visitors since her sister died a few years ago. None of her kids come see her.” Clint frowned at that. 

“Probably sucks to have your own mom not recognize you,” he said, trying to be commiserate. It wasn’t something he was really good at, but at least he was trying. He glanced over to see Bucky’s hand curled into a fist and one of Sam’s hands on Bucky’s lower back. They’d be fine. Hopefully.

Carol nodded and the elevator opened. She led them down a hall and to a room with a door covered in butterfly stickers. There was a sign next to the door that read _Rebecca Barnes, “Becca”, Alzheimers, B: 1916._

1916\. Jesus. She was old as hell. 

Carol tapped on the door and opened it. “You have visitors, Becca,” she called. “You up for it?”

“Who is it?” Becca called back, and Clint filed into the room after Carol, Bucky and Sam staying out in the hall. “Who are you?” she asked him, and Clint grinned at her. 

“I’m—”

“Steve?” she asked, staggering to her feet. She looked ancient as hell, all hunched over, wrinkled all over, with a shock of white hair, but Clint could see Bucky in her eyes, in her smile, in the strength she still had. “That you, little Stevie? You look awful.”

“Aw, hell,” Clint muttered. “Sure, I’ll be Steve. It’s been awhile, huh, Becca?”

She gave him that same look Bucky sometimes gave him when he said something dumber than usual. “Well?” she asked, standing up straighter. “Where’s that no good brother of mine?”

Clint looked at the door, where Bucky was hovering, looking like he’d been punched in the chest.

“Sometimes Alzheimer's patients don’t know what year they’re in,” Carol said softly, and Clint just nodded. “I’ll be out in the hall. Call if you need me.” Carol darted out of the room and Bucky took a step in.

Becca frowned at him. “What happened to your arm, Bucky?”

“Oh, Becca,” Bucky breathed, moving forward, reaching out with a trembling hand, brushing the tips of his fingers over the back of her hand. “I lost it.”

“You look ridiculous with long hair,” Becca told him, and looked back at Clint. “Help me sit, Stevie.” Clint nodded and steadied her as she carefully sat back down in her armchair. “Pull up a chair, Bucky. You always did like staring at me.” Becca peered over her glasses at the doorway. “Who’s that? Stevie, go bring him in.”

“Sure,” Clint agreed with a smile, patting Bucky on the shoulder as he passed him. Sam walked in and shut the door behind him. The three of them pulled up chairs, Bucky keeping his hand on Becca’s. Sam sat next to him while Clint on the other side.

Becca peered at Sam. “You’re very handsome,” she told him. “What are you doing with my no-good brother?”

Sam just grinned at her. “Keeping him out of trouble,” he replied, and stuck out his hand. “I’m Sam.”

Becca slapped away his hand and opened her arms. “Don’t keep all that sugar to yourself, Buck,” she said, and Sam laughed at her and hugged her. Sam leaned back and slung his arm over the back of Bucky’s chair. Becca gave them a soft smile and then turned her attention back to the TV.

She was watching some vapid soap opera that Clint had never heard of. Bucky couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from her, occasionally blinking away tears. Every now and then, Becca would reach out and pat his hand.

Eventually, Bucky asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, “Did you ever marry?”

Becca rolled her eyes. “Twenty years of my life,” she grumbled. “His name was Charles. Called him Charlie. You would’ve hated him, Buck. I hated him. Got two kids out of him, though. Jamie and Helen. They’re lovely.” She shot Bucky a smile. “He died fifteen years ago. Best day of my life.”

“What are your kids like?”

Becca laughed. “They’re horrible! Spoiled little brats.” She leaned in close. “Helen is a lesbian.” Clint grinned at the supremely satisfied look on Becca’s face. “Charlie wanted to send her to some camp, wanted to _fix_ her. I told him I could fix him with a pair of scissors.” She laughed, delighted with herself. Bucky even looked amused, and Sam chuckled. “Jamie is a lawyer. A big-shot. In New York, I think? For some important company. 'S' something. They pay for my care here, you know. So very kind.”

Clint and Sam exchanged looks and Clint pulled out his phone. A text wouldn’t hurt. 

“You like it here?” Bucky asked softly. “You look good, Becca. For your age.”

She laughed again, delighted. “Not sure how I made it this long, Bucky. But I’m glad I did.” Becca smiled, reached out, cupped Bucky’s jaw. His mouth trembled as he leaned into her hand. “What happened to you, little brother?”

“Nothing good,” he rasped, closing his eyes. “But I’m here now.”

“That’s all that matters,” Becca told him, and dropped her hand, turning back to the TV.

She ended up falling asleep a few minutes later, Bucky unable to look away from her.

Clint’s phone vibrated. He awkwardly excused himself and ducked out into the hall, giving Carol an uncomfortable wave as he took the call.

“Why do you need a list of lawyers at Stark Industries?” Tony asked him. 

“Nice to hear from you too, Tony. Uhh, it’s a family thing.”

“Didn’t know you had any family,” Tony retorted. “Who are you looking for?”

Clint sighed. Asshole. “Can’t you just send me the list?”

“I could. I could very easily do that. In fact, I have the list right in front of me, drafted in an email to your weird email address. AOL, really?”

“I never had a reason to change it!” Clint replied defensively. Then he sighed. “We’re trying to track down members of Bucky’s family.”

“Huh.” Tony went quiet for all of seven seconds. They were probably the best seven seconds of Clint’s whole life. “I have a J. P. Barnes here. You think that’s him?”

“Yeah, probably.”

He could hear Tony’s frown. “He’s been working here for almost a decade. Stark Industries pays for his mom’s nursing home.” Clint could hear him tapping computer keys and then Tony let out a sigh. “Yeah, this is him. Looks just like the big lug.”

“Tony, I need you to keep this quiet.”

“Lips are zipped, Barton, don’t worry. I don’t need it getting out that I’m employing the nephew of the brainwashed assassin who murdered my parents.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Also don’t fire him or stop paying for his mom’s nursing home.”

“You know, Clint, I’m looking around my office, and I’m not seeing where it says that you’re in charge of the hiring and firing practices at Stark Industries.”

“That’s interesting,” Clint commented casually, “since I’m not seeing where it says that you have a choice in doing anything I ask.”

Tony went quiet for long enough that Clint checked his phone to make sure the call hadn’t ended. Then, finally, “Alright, Barton. Hell, I’ll upgrade her situation there. You happy with that or you gonna come here and threaten me again?”

“Oh, I’m pretty busy,” Clint commented, waving at Carol as she poked her head down the hall. “By the way, Steve said he liked your press conference. Figured you want to hear that.”

“Did he take it?”

“Naw. I have someone else in mind, though.”

“My dad made that shield for Steve,” Tony ground through gritted teeth.

“Sure he did,” Clint agreed. “But I can’t imagine your dad would argue against the guy who’s gonna take it.” Well, maybe. Clint thought about that. “Was your dad, like, super racist or anything?”

“I’m hanging up now,” Tony told him, and did just that.

Sam opened the door to Becca’s room, both of his eyebrows nearing his hairline. “Who’s a racist?”

Clint slid his phone back into his pocket and grinned up at him. “Nothin’ you need to worry your big ol’ head about, Wilson. We good here or does he want to stay a little longer?”

“I’m good,” Bucky said quietly, stepping up next to Sam. “Clint, I...I don’t have words. Thank you for doing this.”

“Don’t mention it,” Clint grinned at him. “Just keep that goodwill in mind when I ask you what I gotta ask you.”

He called a goodbye to Carol and led them to the elevator, just shrugging at their questions. They left the nursing home with a cheery wave to the receptionist, and then Clint joined them in their shitty van. Sam slid behind the wheel and Bucky in the passenger seat, which meant that Clint took the backseat. Both of them turned to glare at him.

Clint pulled out the Tesseract. “You mind?”

They both sighed at him, but neither of them stopped him, so he activated the Tesseract and the three of them and the crappy van all disappeared and reappeared in front of Clint’s farmhouse. Clint motioned towards the house. “It’s inside.” He opened the van door and jumped out. Neither of them moved. “Oh, get a move on, you two. I’ll send you back to Wakanda or wherever after this. Just come inside.”

Clint went up to the house and two car doors slammed as he walked inside. He turned off the last of the listening devices he hadn’t destroyed and went into Loki’s rooms. Steve’s shield was laying on the couch. Clint picked it up and sighed. This was gonna be fun.

He put it on the coffee table and went to the kitchen, where Bucky and Sam were awkwardly loitering. Clint considered the two of them and then grabbed himself a beer. He waved the two of them to Loki’s rooms. Sam grabbed a beer and Bucky got a water, and then they followed him in.

Both of them stopped the second they saw Steve’s shield. Clint dropped into the armchair and waved them to the couch.

“Is...what happened?” Bucky whispered.

Clint flinched and rubbed the back of his neck. Okay, maybe not the best presentation on his part. “Everyone’s fine,” he reassured them. “Steve and Loki are in that cabin, under seclusion. Uh, it’s a part of Aesir wedding tradition. Anyway, I have something to ask you.”

Bucky looked horrified.

Clint turned to Sam. “You ever thought about taking up the shield, Sam?”

“Me?” Sam asked. “Why not Buck?”

“Bucky doesn’t want it,” Clint said. “But you still got the fire in ya. And the world still needs Captain America.”

“I’m not Captain America,” Sam said, but he reached out for the shield anyway.

“Just try it on,” Clint said. “See how it feels.”

Sam slowly pushed to his feet and then paused, looking back at Bucky, who looked almost nauseous. “Buck?”

“I’ll give you two a minute,” Clint decided, holding up his hands, and then he left Loki’s rooms, dropping into the couch in the family room and turning on the TV. They’d figure it out, but he knew Sam would take the shield. He and Steve were too similar for Sam to turn it down.

_Has he taken it yet?_ Loki asked. _I can send Steve to you to convince him._

_Not yet, and naw, I think this is a decision Sam needs to make on his own. We all know he’s gonna take it, anyway._

_Will Bucky stop him? He is the only one who could ask Sam to put the shield down._

Clint thought about it. He didn’t _think_ Bucky would ask Sam to not pick up the shield, but Bucky also wanted nothing to do with fighting anymore. He’d had enough of it over the years. _I don’t think so,_ Clint replied. _I think he knows someone has to take it up. He doesn’t want it to be anyone he knows, but Bucky understands obligation, probably more than anyone else._

Loki made a curious sound at that but didn’t say anything, and eventually his attention turned to something else.

“Hey, Clint?” Sam called. “Come back in here, would you?”

“‘Course,” Clint called back, and jumped up to move quickly back into Loki’s rooms. The shield was back on the coffee table, and Sam had his arms crossed, and Bucky looked stone-faced. Hey, he’d expected worse. He took a swig of his beer and motioned at the two of them. “Yeah?”

“Why doesn’t Steve have the shield?” Sam asked. “It’s his.”

“Sure it is,” Clint agreed. “I told you, he’s in seclusion. He’s just taking a break. But the world still needs Captain America.”

“Why me?” Sam asked, voice torn. “Why not Buck?”

“Bucky doesn’t want it. He never wanted it.” Bucky looked down at the floor, shamefaced. Clint sighed. “Sam, look. Steve doesn’t know how to rest. It took Loki, what, like two years to get Steve to take a _month_ off. Even when Nat told him to lay low, Steve was still trying to get back out there. You’re no different. Cut from the same cloth and all.” 

Sam sighed and reached out, fingers brushing over the star. “What does this mean?”

Clint moved around the couch and dropped back into the armchair. “You’d be an independent contractor. Technically Stark Industries would be paying you. You’d get around the Accords by reporting to Natasha and by contracting your services out to the government, aka SHIELD. You’d be overseen by Fury and Coulson but you wouldn’t report to them. You and Steve would be sharing the mantle of Captain America. Basically, whoever was available would take the mission. But for right now, that’s all you.”

Sam was quiet while he thought about that.

“Would he be going alone?” Bucky asked, sounding like he was a minute away from screaming. “He can’t do it alone.”

Clint pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a picture of a young woman with black hair and a bow in her hand. “Cap, meet Hawkeye.” He held his phone out and Sam slowly took it and swiped through a few of the pictures. “Her name is Kate Bishop. From what Nat tells me, she’s a hell of a shot.”

“Hawkeye?” Sam asked, a frown creasing his forehead.

“Yeah, she took up the mantle after I retired. I haven’t met her yet, but Nat likes her, and that’s good enough for me.”

Sam handed back the phone and looked at Bucky. “Bucky, if you don’t want me to, I won’t.”

Bucky swallowed thickly and nodded, not looking up from the floor. “I know,” he whispered. He gave a small smile and rubbed at his eyes. “You know, I never could keep Steve out of the fight. Can’t imagine why I thought it’d be different with you.” He turned his attention to Clint. “I want to meet her. Before Sam trusts his life to her, I need to meet her.”

Clint nodded and sent a text to Nat. “‘Course, Buck.” He looked between the two of them. “We good? Because I have a bet that I need to win.”

“Fuckin’ course you do,” Sam muttered, and he picked up the shield. “Huh. Lighter than I thought it’d be.”

Clint grinned at him and took a picture with his phone. “Looks good, man. Suits you.”

“Yeah?”

Bucky nodded and smiled up at him. “Suits you,” he confirmed. “They got a suit for you, yet?”

Clint’s phone vibrated and he pulled up the text. “Nat says Kate is gonna bring it when she comes by.” Another text came in. “Oh, guess that’s gonna be in about an hour.” Bucky and Sam exchanged a glance and Clint grinned at the two of them. “Hey, wanna see how far you can throw it? Bet I can throw it farther.”

“Game on,” Sam shot back, and the three of them chased each other outside. Clint grabbed the shield out of Sam’s hand and jumped off the porch and threw it. Bucky ran after it, putting on his super-soldier speed, and managed to catch it before it hit the ground. Clint whooped and Bucky threw it back. Sam jumped over him and grabbed the shield out of midair, spinning around and letting it loose, ricocheting it off a tree and flew back into Sam’s hands. Sam landed on the ground and grinned down at the shield.

“Hell yeah!” Clint yelled, pumping a fist up into the air. “Knew you had it in ya!”

Sam beamed at him, and then at Bucky when he came jogging in. Bucky smiled shyly at Sam, who reached up and stroked his jaw, and then pulled him in close to kiss him. Clint hurriedly took out his phone and took a picture of the two of them, sending it to Steve.

His phone rang just a minute later as Sam and Bucky were seeing who could throw the shield higher into the air.

“Hey, Cap,” he said as he answered the phone. 

“He took the shield?” Steve asked.

“Yeah he did,” Clint replied. “You owe me fifty bucks.”

Steve sighed. “Only you could get me to take that bet,” he grumbled. “Alright, I’ll pay you next time I see you. Hand the phone over to Sam, would you?”

Clint obligingly handed the phone over. Sam moved away, talking to Steve in low tones. Clint looked at Bucky. “You sure you’re alright with this, bud?”

Bucky gave him a small smile and shrugged, running his hand through his hair. “I love him,” Bucky told him softly, like it was a secret, like it wasn’t obvious to anyone who looked at him. “I’ve been chasing after Steve and all the dumbass shit he did ever since we were kids. I guess it was inevitable that I’d end up running after another one.” 

Clint nodded and after a moment, pulled him in for a hug. Bucky slapped him on the back and pressed his forehead to Clint’s neck in the same way another Bucky, in another time, had curled into Clint while they were sharing a bed. Clint stopped himself from jerking away and just let Bucky hug him for as long as the poor guy needed. Bucky separated from him just a minute later and Clint gave him a sheepish grin and patted him on the back.

“It’ll be alright, Buck,” Clint told him, turning his head to watch the Quinjet as it flew overhead. “You can stay here while he’s on mission and we can find some Asgardian booze to get you drunk.”

Bucky snorted. “I drank six bottles of wine one night,” he said quietly. “Didn’t even make me tired.”

Clint elbowed him in the side and raised a hand in greeting as the Quinjet landed in the far field. “Never hurts to try,” he replied. “If anything, I’ll give you a potion that gets you fucked up.”

Bucky just grinned at him.

Sam walked over and handed Clint his phone back. The three of them stood, shoulder to shoulder, as the gangway descended and Nat and a young woman walked down. Clint waved at them and jogged over, catching Nat in a hug. “You look great,” he told her, and pulled away, grinning at the young woman standing next to her, clad in purple and black. “You must be Hawkeye. I like the jacket.”

She lowered her sunglasses and looked at him over them. Kate Bishop held out a hand towards him. “Nice to meet you, Hawkeye.” He shook her hand while she looked him over. “Where’s the purple?”

Clint laughed. “Just _most_ of my stuff is purple,” he informed her. “Not all of it.” He motioned towards the house. “Let’s go see how good of a shot you are.”

“Oh, you’re on, Hawkeye.”

Clint hugged Nat again and then led them towards the house. Sam introduced himself first, still holding the shield in one hand. Bucky hung back and Nat walked up to him and smiled at him. “How’s Wakanda?” she asked, tipping her head back to look up at him. “You look a lot better, Barnes. Happier.”

Bucky smiled at her. “Wakanda is good. Real good. How’s New York? Stark bothering you much?”

“I’m Sam,” Sam said. “Sam Wilson.”

“Kate Bishop,” Kate replied, pulling off her sunglasses and pocketing them. She gave Sam an appraising look. “Hawkeye.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to have to start introducing yourself as Captain America, you know. None of this _Sam_ nonsense.”

Clint shot Nat a wide-eyed looked and mouthed, _I love her_, which had Nat winking at him and nodding.

Nat looked at Bucky. “New York is good. Still smells like old garbage on hot days. Tony is...well, he’s Tony. He’s settled down a lot in the past week or so.” She elbowed Clint in the side and he yelped and then shrugged. “Oh, that reminds me.” She pulled a box out of her pocket and handed it over. Clint opened it to see new hearing aids, still in the same garish purple he loved. “Tony sends his regards.”

Clint nodded at her, too choked up to say anything.

“Clint said you’re bringing a uniform for me?” Sam asked, looking down at his plainclothes. 

Kate slipped off her small backpack and handed it over. Sam opened it and pulled out a red, white, and blue suit, heavier and more tactical looking than the outfits that Steve preferred, and it had a heat shield on the back for his jetpack and wings. “Wings are on the ‘jet,” Kate told him, and her sharp eyes landed on Clint. “Let’s go shoot, old man.”

“Old man!” Clint squawked, sliding his new hearing aids into a pocket dimension and then led her to his barn. Nat tossed Sam the Quinjet keys and then followed them, sliding her arm into Clint’s. “You look healthier,” Clint told her. “Less stressed. Job suits you.”

She smiled at him. “It’s been good,” Nat told him. “Accords made it tough for awhile, but we worked out deals.”

“Did you sign it?” Clint asked Kate, who shook her head. “Good. That’s good. Real Hawkeye of you.”

Kate paused and looked back at him. She looked like she wanted to say something and then thought better of it. Clint entered the barn first and Nat went for the handguns while Clint pulled his favorite recurve off the wall. He brushed his fingers over a drawer and a bit of green seidr shimmered over it, and when he pulled the drawer open, his Aesir bow was inside. Clint motioned at the various bows around his workshop. “Pick one, Hawkeye. Gotta make sure you’re good enough to take up the mantle.”

“I already took up the mantle,” she shot back. “Haven’t heard any complaints.”

Clint looked at Natasha, who shrugged. “Good,” he grinned. “Hawkeye never leaves anyone wanting.”

“Jesus,” Natasha muttered, rolling her eyes. “You never change, Clint.”

Clint tossed Kate his recurve bow and shouldered his Aesir bow and quiver and pushed them both out of the barn. Sam and Bucky were in the same spot, talking quietly between themselves, heads bowed together. 

“Hey, Cap,” Clint called. Both Sam and Bucky’s heads automatically turned towards him. “Captain America needs to know how to shoot a bow!”

“Pretty sure Steve never had that as part of his repertoire!” Sam yelled back.

“How’d you know?” Clint yelled. “He was alive a long time before you were born!”

Natasha shook her head at him.

“Don’t think he was shooting shit with a bow and arrow while he was in the ice,” Kate said right as Sam called back that Steve might be old but even he wasn’t gonna use ancient weaponry.

“It’s Paleolithic, asshole!”

Bucky was rolling his eyes at the two of them when the three of them reached them. Clint gave him a slow smirk. “Hey, you want that rifle of yours, Barnes? We could have a do-over.”

Bucky’s amused look turned immediately into a glare. “Oh, I don’t think so, Barton. I’m still convinced you cheated.”

“Cheated! Me!” Clint clutched at his chest. “I’d _never_.”

“Isn’t cheating how carnivals make a living?” Natasha asked. She glanced around Clint’s house. “What are we shooting at?”

“Well, kids aren’t here, so we can pretty much do whatever we want,” Clint mused, and then he shot Sam a speculative look. “Hey, how high can you toss that?”

Sam clutched his shield close. “No, we’re not shooting the shield. I literally just got it. Steve told me not to let anything happen to it.”

“Oh, he probably meant anything other than this,” Clint tried to assure him, but Sam wasn’t having it. He sighed and looked around. “What about a tree, then? That’s all I got.” No one raised an argument so Clint jogged back to the barn, grabbed a couple targets, and then ran over to some trees and tacked them up. Good enough. He waved at everyone and then jogged back. They argued over distance until Kate took Clint’s recurve bow and just started loosing arrows.

Clint whistled at her. “Damn, you’re a good shot,” he said, giving her an appraising look. “When’d you start?”

“I’ve been taking lessons since I was a kid,” she told him, and Clint slid his Aesir bow down his arm and stepped up next to her. Natasha came up on his other side, pistol in hand, and the three of them fired.

Kate wanted to try the Aesir bow, but for all her skill, couldn’t bend it back. Clint shrugged at her and told her it was made for him. Sam handed Bucky his shield and stretched out his shoulders and Kate handed him the recurve bow, showing him the proper stance and how to hold the bow. Clint went over to Bucky when he saw the poor guy giving the shield a strange look.

“She’s good people,” Clint told him, grinning at Nat when she tried getting Sam to shoot an arrow so she could shoot it with a bullet. “He’ll be safe.”

“I know you’re retired,” Bucky started, giving him a sidelong look, “but would you consider it? Just a mission or two?”

Huh. “You know,” he told Bucky, nocking an arrow and aiming into the sky so he could shoot Sam’s arrow out of the air, “they came to me first with this mission. I told them they needed Captain America, not a retired dad. I’m not a sidekick, anyway.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Thought being a sidekick was your whole thing. But, not even one?”

Clint gave him an appraising look. “I really doubt I could keep him any safer than anyone else, Buck.”

“What about Loki?”

Clint snorted. “He’s too busy getting railed by Steve to even _think_ about going after HYDRA, bud.” He loosed another arrow, knocking Sam’s arrow out of the air as the man shot it down the lane. Sam shot him a glare over his shoulder and Clint just grinned at him. “Look, man, if you want to know his back is being watched, you can suit up too. Someone will make you an arm if you want.”

“I can’t,” Bucky bit out, and then, through gritted teeth, “I don’t _want_ to.”

“I know. No one will make you do anything you don’t want to do. But if you don’t want to do it, then you have to trust someone else. Listen, you really think Stark is gonna let anything happen to him?”

“Stark shot him in the chest with a repulsor blast.”

“Oh, Stark does that to everyone.” Clint shook his head. “Anyway, Sam wasn’t Captain America back then. Trust me, Stark is gonna suit him up with all the latest and greatest tech to keep him safe.” He elbowed Bucky in the side, receiving a scandalized look for it. “He’s scared shitless of you, anyway, Buck. You really think he wants to piss off the guy who murdered his parents? Come on.”

Natasha, Kate, and Sam all turned around to give him horrified looks. 

Clint shrugged at them. “What, like I’m wrong?”

Natasha just shook her head at him and motioned towards the Quinjet. “Come on, Wilson. Let’s go try your suit on.”

* * *

The reporter turned to Sam, who was decked out in full Captain America gear, white star on his chest, wings retracted up against his back, red goggles pushed up onto his forehead. Kate was standing next to him, decked out in purple, bow in hand, quiver on her hip. They both looked fuckin’ great. Clint grinned at his TV. Next to him, Bucky let out a relieved breath.

“Here we have Captain America and his new sidekick. What’s your name?” she asked Kate, who frowned at her, looking at her over her purple sunglasses.

“I’m not his sidekick,” Kate replied stiffly. “We’re partners. And I’m Hawkeye.”

“Nice to meet you, Lady Hawkeye,” the reporter said, and turned back to Sam. 

“No,” Kate interrupted. “Just Hawkeye.”

The reporter smiled at her and Sam cleared his throat. “Now, Captain America, will you tell us what happened to Steve Rogers? Has he retired? Is the Avengers Initiative being revamped? Are you under sanction from the Sokovia Accords?”

Sam gave her an easy smile and the reporter visibly melted. “Well, Erin, Steve Rogers is busy planning his wedding, but the world needs Captain America. So I took up the shield.” Sam lifted his hand a little, where the famous shield was still strapped around his arm. “He hasn’t retired. Doubt he ever could, but even a man like Steve Rogers needs a break. The Avengers were never officially dismantled, even after the Accords.” Sam smiled again. “Ma’am, I’m Captain America. Not too many people can tell me what to do.”

The reporter nodded eagerly and Clint elbowed Bucky in the side. They were sitting together on the couch in Clint’s living room, sharing a chalice of Asgardian wine. Clint was beyond drunk and Bucky seemed to be just buzzed enough that he wasn’t panicking about Sam. Alcohol still didn’t really affect him but Asgardian wine could still put him in a good mood.

“And you, Hawkeye? Are you an Avenger?”

Kate tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I’m Hawkeye, aren’t I? And Hawkeye is always an Avenger.” The reporter gave her a fake smile and Kate leaned in closer. “The main duty of an Avenger is to help people. The way I see it, anyone who helps others is an Avenger.”

“Hey, Laura,” Clint yelled, and his wife called his name from the kitchen. “I’m leaving you for Kate!”

“Isn’t she like 19,” Bucky stage-whispered. 

Clint thought about that. Yeah she was. Gross. “Wait, aren’t you like 100? Sam’s like 35 or whatever. Isn’t that just as gross?”

“Bet he’s better in bed,” Bucky grumbled, swallowing down half the cup of wine.

“Who’s Kate?” Laura asked, walking into the living room. “Is that her? Oh, she’s pretty. A little young, though. You two want some water?”

“Water is for Avengers,” Bucky said, which had them both bursting out in laughter. Laura rolled her eyes at them and left.

Up on the TV, Erin was still asking Sam questions about the mission. “All I can say, ma'am, is that we were tasked to take out a HYDRA base.”

“HYDRA?” she parroted. “Our understanding was that the entire organization had been dismantled after it was exposed.”

“It’s probably more accurate to say HYDRA affiliated persons,” Kate told her, “but calling them HYDRA is shorter. What it really boils down to is that they’re all Nazis and Captain America and Hawkeye hate Nazis.”

Clint and Bucky let out identical cheers.

“Are HYDRA agents Nazis?” Erin asked them, and Sam and Kate exchanged looks. 

“The organization was founded and run by Nazis,” Sam said slowly, “which, as far as I’m concerned, makes them all Nazis. Also, they seem to have pretty much the same principals, so ergo, Nazis.”

“Half dozen of one, six of the other,” Kate added.

“Anyway,” Sam continued, “we completed our objective and all of the HYDRA agents are in custody of the US government.” He gave the reporter an appraising look. “Do you have any more questions?”

Erin smiled brightly at him. “Who is Steve Rogers marrying?”

“That’s a secret,” Kate told her with a big smile. “We’ll be sure to release pictures of the event when it happens. Send a tweet to the Avengers Twitter account if you want, and follow our Instagram! Maybe we’ll post a hint on there.” Kate winked at the camera and then she and Sam turned and walked off, the camera panning away to the Quinjet on the other side of the road. Clint turned off the TV and yawned. Bucky shook his head and pushed the chalice into Clint’s hands.

“No passing out on me, man.”

“Told you he’d be fine,” Clint said with another yawn. “Since when do the Avengers have a Twitter?”

“What’s Twitter?”

Clint just shook his head and slid down on the couch until his head was in Bucky’s lap. “Comfy,” he mumbled, and was snoring a minute later.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Idiot,” he muttered affectionately, and set the chalice down on the coffee table so he could pet his hand through Clint’s hair. He sat in the dark until Laura came back in with a few bowls of food. She rolled her eyes at the two of them.

“Wake him up so he can eat something,” she said, setting the food down on the coffee table and grabbing the remote. She turned on the TV and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders before curling up in Loki’s armchair, a bowl of food cradled in her hands. “Take out his hearing aids, too, Barnes. He’s not supposed to sleep in them.”

Bucky obliged as he shook Clint awake, but Clint slapped his hands away before Bucky could pull his aids out. The archer jerked and mumbled something about Loki and then sat up, cradling his head. Bucky tapped at his ears and Clint nodded, blearily looking around the room.

“Whose house is this?” he asked.

“Yours, hon,” Laura said, not looking away from the muted TV. 

Bucky frowned at the two of them. Clint pulled his hearing aids out of his ears and then looked at them. “I’m deaf?”

Bucky, at a loss, just handed Clint a bowl of food, and the archer ate half of it before dropping it on the floor and curling back up in Bucky’s lap. He was passed out in under a minute.

“Is he...okay?” Bucky asked softly.

“Happens sometimes. Don’t worry about it,” Laura told him, turning her head to blink at him. “He doesn’t drink very often.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Bucky said with a wince, but she just shook her head. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she repeated, and turned back to the TV. “He’s fine, believe me. Loki will show up soon and help him.”

“Why are you so calm about all of this?”

“Crying and screaming doesn’t solve anything,” Laura told him, her voice a bit clipped. “He’s my husband. I promised that I’d support him and stand by him. Sure, it all went a bit different than I thought it would, but he sacrificed to be with me, too. It’s a lot easier to support him when my life is exactly the way I always wanted it.” She shot him a sly smile. “You want to watch Tony’s press conference? I recorded it.”

Bucky gave her his best approximation of a grin. “I haven’t actually seen it,” he admitted, “so, sure.”

Laura paged through a few screens and Tony’s face appeared on the TV. He was standing in front of a podium in the press room in Stark Tower, which he’d given back to Stark Industries after building the Avengers Facility. He gave a small wave to the gathered presses and cleared his throat. He was wearing a bespoke black suit with an Iron Man tie and a grey shirt underneath.

“Hi, folks. I’m Tony Stark. I’m here as a representative of my company, Stark Industries, and our non-profit sector, spearheaded by the Stark Relief Foundation and the Avengers Initiative. The Avengers were officially started after the dismantling of the government agency SHIELD, in order to protect our world against threats both at home and abroad. I feel, as a whole, we’ve accomplished that.”

A reporter raised their hand and Tony shook his head. “No questions, please. As I was saying, the Avengers wanted to help and make the world better. I helped fund the reinstitution of SHIELD, and eventually brokered a deal with them in order to utilize their resources. In layman’s terms, I gave them money, they gave me scientists. We used this alliance to create the Regeneration Cradle, along with information from Asgardian scientists.” Tony tapped at his Starkphone and the screen behind him changed to a picture of a hospital room with a new version of the Cradle. “These Cradles are now available in hospitals nationwide at no cost to users.”

Tony took in a deep breath. “The Sokovia Accords nearly dismantled the Avengers. We have...come to a type of agreement, both with each other and the United Nations, as well as the US government. The world needs the Avengers. I’m still firmly on the side of the Avengers needing to be managed by a higher power, and that sometimes doing the right thing requires sacrifice, but I also learned that sacrifice isn’t something I do well.” There was a bit of polite laughter, which Tony looked uncomfortable with. He motioned to the room around him. “The Accords are flawed. If Captain America doesn’t agree with it, then it’s probably not the right thing to do.”

A few reporters nodded in agreement.

“What happened in Sokovia was my fault. I created Ultron. I’m not here for penance or forgiveness. I still believe that we need a suit of armor around the world, which is why I’m officially announcing my return to the Avengers.”

“You’re coming out of retirement?” a reporter called, and Tony nodded.

“Agent Black Widow has been the president of the non-profit ever since it was founded. She and the Hulk have been the most active members, given that most everyone else had other obligations or were wrongfully put under house arrest. I am also pleased to announce the return of Captain America and Hawkeye.”

With that, the recording ended.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Bucky mused. “Not really sure what he was getting at, though.”

“A long way around of saying he’s still Iron Man, I figured,” Laura replied, and changed the TV to _Dog Cops_. “At least he’s taking _some_ kind of public responsibility for everything that’s happened in the past few years.”

“Never thought I’d see it.”

Clint jerked awake and sat up, rubbing at his eyes. “What year is it?” he asked around a yawn.

Loki appeared in a burst of dull green light and leaned down to pick Clint up in his arms, ignoring the both of them. Laura waved at him.

Laura answered his question even though Clint’s hearing aids were abandoned on the coffee table. “2017,” she said, and watched as Loki carried Clint to his rooms.

“Oh,” Bucky said. “I’m 100 years old.”

“Did you have a party?”

“I don’t think so.” 

Laura grinned at him and pulled out her phone. “Alright, we’ll have a party tomorrow. How many friends do you have? Two?” Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’ll have the kids make you a cake, and then we’ll all eat a bunch of ice cream. That sound good?”

Bucky swallowed down the emotions that threatened to rise in his chest. “Yeah, Laura,” he said softly, “that sounds great.”

* * *

Loki gently set him down on his bed. Clint blinked up at him. “What year is it?” he repeated. “Am I deaf?”

_It’s 2017, and yes,_ Loki replied. _Do you know who I am?_

“You’re mine,” Clint said slowly, tiredly. Then he furrowed his brow. “Why don’t I know where I am?”

_You’ve been spending too much time in memories, pet,_ Loki murmured, pulling Clint’s shirt off. _Coupled with the various concussions you’ve suffered over the years, I can only imagine your mind reacts to alcohol rather poorly. You’ll be alright._

“Promise?”

_I promise._

Clint curled under the covers after Loki pulled off his socks and pants. Loki slid into bed next to him and Clint curled up against his chest.

_Why don’t my ears work?_

_Because you are deaf._

“Huh.” Clint rolled over onto his back and thought about that. “If you’re mine, am I yours?”

_Of course._

Clint thought about that some more. His head hurt. “Why does my head hurt?”

_Because you drank too much alcohol._

Huh.

Well, it made sense. 

“What did you do to my brother?”

Loki merely continued petting through his hair, sliding bits of seidr through his fingers and into Clint’s skin. Green sparkles danced over his skin and sunk underneath it and Clint sighed in contentment, eyes fluttering shut. 

_I merely talked to him._

“What’d you say, then?”

Loki ran his thumb over Clint’s forehead. _That it would be unwise to seek you out again, and that I could show him his future if he continued to take advantage of you._

“You’re my hero,” Clint murmured tiredly. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

_No,_ Loki replied. _I doubt I would have believed it before you._

Clint hummed and opened an eye. “What year is it?”

_Hush. Go to sleep._

* * *

Surprisingly, Lila and Cooper made a half-decent birthday cake. It was a bit too dry in parts and a bit too eggy in others, but Bucky loved it. It was the best thing he’d ever eaten. They’d let him eat a piece before anyone showed up; well, Cooper had cut him a piece and demanded he eat it. Sam and Kate brought a couple of hastily wrapped presents and Kate and Clint argued over whether or not they could really fit 100 candles on the cake. Nate was upstairs, asleep, and Laura had already pumped for him, so she was enjoying a glass of champagne and trying to convince Sam to jump off the roof, with or without his wings. The more time Bucky spent with her, the more he realized just why Clint loved her so much. 

Loki and Steve had promised to come by, just for an hour. Somehow, Tony had heard about the party, and he was going to stop by. Nat, too. 

Bucky paused in the doorway to the kitchen, just looking around. He hadn’t ever guessed this would be his life, that he’d have so many friends, that so many people would care for him.

“Buck, hey!” Clint yelled. He’d apologized earlier for losing his grasp on reality the night before, said it was just something that happened sometimes, and Bucky hadn’t really known what to say. “Do you even know when your birthday is? Because if you’re technically still 99, I’m gonna kick everyone out of my house.”

“March 20th,” Steve said from behind Bucky. “First day of spring. Always thought the Winter Soldier thing was funny, in retrospect.” Bucky turned to smile at him, pulled him in for a hug. They pulled apart and Bucky glanced over him.

“You look good, Stevie. Healthy.”

“You too, Buck.” Steve slung his arm around Bucky’s waist and pulled him into the kitchen. A minute later, Loki stepped in, looking as haughty and put-upon as ever. He was floating an unreasonably huge present behind him, and he was wearing green pants and a ragged shirt with Steve’s shield over the chest. Anyone else would’ve looked homeless, but somehow Loki still looked elegant and formal.

“Bucky,” Loki said warmly, and did that thing where he brushed his hand over the back of Bucky’s neck and Bucky shivered. “Happy birthday, my dear.” He floated the massive present over to the kitchen table and landed it next to the lopsided cake. Lila and Cooper cheered and tackled Loki, who lifted each of them in one arm and moved over to Clint.

Steve’s arm squeezed Bucky’s waist and then he pulled away, giving Bucky a kind smile. “How’s your boy?” he asked, moving over to the counter full of drinks. Bucky took a cup of water and Steve copied him. 

“It’s nice to be sleeping with Captain America again,” Bucky teased, and Steve threw his head back in laughter. “Really missed that patriotic flair.”

Steve grinned at him. “How’d you do with him going off and you staying home?”

“Got drunk with Clint,” Bucky shrugged. “So it went about as well as it could’ve gone.”

“Got drunk?” Steve repeated. “What’d do it?”

“Some Asgardian drink. Wine or something. Really fucked Clint up.” Bucky shook his head. “I didn’t even have a headache this morning.” 

“Poor guy,” Steve muttered, turning to find Clint in the room. Clint seemed to realize he was being looked for and tripped over to them. Clint beamed at the two of them and stole Steve’s water, guzzling down half of it. “You alright, Clint?”

“Oh, I’m always good,” Clint assured him. “How’s seclusion treating you?”

To Bucky’s surprise, Steve flushed, tips of his ears going bright red. “It’s good,” Steve said stiffly. He took his water back from Clint and took a sip. “We figured out which bonds we want.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked. Steve just nodded. Bucky hadn’t really expected anything else, but he was still curious. “Like what?” Bucky pressed. 

Clint gave Steve a shrewd glance and then turned to Bucky. “One of them is a sex thing,” Clint announced, a bit too loudly, and a few people turned to look at him. Steve quickly excused himself just as Natasha and Tony walked in the front door. Bucky froze and then blinked at Clint when the archer moved in between Bucky and the sightline to the door. “Don’t you worry about him,” Clint said with a wink. “You got Hawkeye on your side. Mean ol’ Tony Stark won’t come anywhere near you if you don’t want.”

Jesus. Alright. Bucky gave him a nod that he hoped showed all the gratefulness that he couldn’t voice and took another sip of water. “What’d Loki get me?” he asked instead of saying anything.

Clint chuckled. “You know I ain’t gonna tell ya.” He sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck and glanced down at the floor. “Buck, I gotta apologize again for last night. I guess if you have enough head injuries—”

“Clint,” Bucky interrupted, putting his hand on the archer’s shoulder, “sometimes when I wake up, I don’t know where I am. I don’t know _when_ I am. I’ll wake up and I don’t know how to make decisions or how to eat food that’s not shitty gruel or those awful fucking protein shakes or anything with flavor. It sucks, a lot of the time. But, probably out of everyone here, I get it. You don’t need to explain anything to me.”

Clint gave him a strange look, like he was surprised by what Bucky was saying but had also heard something similar to it before. He finally nodded. “Alright, Buck. Thanks.” He glanced over his shoulder and then shot Bucky a sly grin. “You wanna sneak up on Stark? Bet you could make him squeal.”

Bucky had learned long ago that Clint invariably won his bets, but he just nodded. “Alright. If he doesn’t make a sound, you owe me...a secret.”

Clint paused and gave him an appraising look, and then he smiled, slowly, like he was a snake catching sight of a rat. “Secret about who?” he asked slyly, and something about him changed just enough for Bucky to remember that this guy had been in _Loki’s_ head for years and was important to the God of Mischief in a way none of them could really understand. 

Bucky thought about it, looked around the room, at everyone there for _him_. “You,” he finally said. “I want to know something about you that no one else knows.”

“Loki knows everything about me,” Clint pointed out, but he looked extremely pleased. 

Bucky shrugged. “Fine. Something about you that only you and Loki know.”

“And if I win?”

Bucky didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know what measured up against a secret. So he shrugged. “If it comes to that, we’ll figure it out. Stark isn’t gonna make a peep.”

Clint gave him another look that reminded Bucky far too much of Loki and then nodded, turning around to go talk to Tony. Bucky watched as he stopped to grab Loki on the way, and the two of them ganged up on Tony in a way that seemed like they’d done it before. Huh. 

Bucky shook his head at Steve’s inquiring look and walked around the party to Sam, who grinned at him and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek. Bucky rolled his eyes and ducked his chin. “Dork,” he muttered, unable to stop his smile. Sam slung his arm over Bucky’s shoulders and pressed another kiss to his cheek. 

“You look delicious,” Sam slurred, taking another drink of some bright red drink that someone had handed him. “How was your night? Like seeing your man up on the big screen?”

“My man looked good,” Bucky said slowly, giving Sam a heated look. “Real good. Liked the suit on him.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam gave him a filthy grin and slid his arm down around Bucky’s waist, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his jeans. “You know, I’ve been thinkin’ about your birthday, what I want to give you.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky parroted, trying to do that deep and sultry thing with his voice that Sam was so good at. “It’s a pretty big birthday, you know. I bet I deserve somethin’ big.”

Sam’s lovely mouth curled in a dark smile. “Oh, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing Bucky’s ear, “you know I got something _big_.”

Bucky swallowed and stepped back, glancing around the room. God, there were _kids_ here. Nobody seemed to have noticed, but Clint, who was still talking to Tony and Loki, looked way more amused than the conversation probably deserved. “Later,” he muttered, trying to rub the blush out of his cheeks. Sam just beamed at him, held out his drink. 

“Wanna taste?”

Bucky wanted to taste a lot more than Sam’s drink. But he just nodded, let Sam bring the cup up to his mouth, tilt in a bit of the overly sweet strawberry drink. Sam’s eyes went dark. “It’s good,” Bucky whispered. He glanced up at Sam, who looked about a minute away from shoving Bucky up against the nearest flat surface and fucking him until he forgot his own name. 

Wait a second. Clint. He’d looked like he was in on some joke. Bucky swiveled his head and glared at the archer, who looked like he was actually interested in what Tony was jabbering on about. Bucky thought about it; Clint had been with him all last night, had probably seen the flash of heat on Bucky’s face when he’d first seen Sam in his Captain America suit, and there was no way Clint didn’t know that Sam could easily reduce Bucky to a blubbering mess in about two minutes. Especially since Sam didn’t drink very often. Sure, he enjoyed a beer every now and then, but not the kind of alcohol that Bucky had tasted in that drink.

Bucky looked back at Sam, gave him a sweet smile. “Who gave you that drink?” he asked gently, licking his lips, Sam’s eyes dropping to his mouth.

“Clint,” Sam murmured, swaying closer for a kiss. Bucky let him, opened his mouth for Sam, pushed him back a bit with his hand when he felt the kiss getting far too dirty for the setting they were in. “Clint makes good drinks.”

“Yeah he does,” Bucky agreed. “Why don’t you go ask him for another?”

Sam winked at him, or tried to. “Tryin’ to take advantage of me, huh?” he drawled. “You know you don’t have to do that, baby. I’m yours no matter what.”

“I know,” Bucky assured him. “But I think Captain America deserves to enjoy himself, yeah?”

Sam puffed out his chest, nodded. “I’m Captain America,” he slurred, and marched off to demand another drink from Clint, who grinned at him and said something that had Sam _blushing_ and then led him back to the kitchen. Bucky decided to just go for it. Loki had managed to turn the conversation so Tony’s back was to him.

He walked over silently and hovered right behind Tony. “Thanks for coming, Stark,” he said, using the deep monotone that the Winter Soldier had spent 70 years cultivating.

Tony jumped out of his damn skin but didn’t make a sound. Fuck _yes._

Bucky glanced over his shoulder to see Clint rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Bucky gave him the bird. 

“Bucky!” Tony exclaimed, clearing his voice of the shake. “Happy birthday, man. You don’t look a day over 65, really.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Bucky said mildly. “Today’s actually not my birthday. I think it was a couple months ago. But I forgot about it, and Laura wanted to have a party, so I obliged.”

“I’m always up for a party,” Tony told him, and his face did something awkward. “You could’ve told me, I would’ve had a whole set up for you at my Tower.”

Bucky looked around the kitchen, at the house he’d hid out in for so many months, at the first real place besides Loki’s apartment that he’d felt safe, and he shook his head. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but I’m glad it’s here.” He shrugged awkwardly and looked at Loki, who was giving Bucky an amused look over the rim of his chalice. “I saw your press conference,” Bucky said awkwardly, regretting it the minute the sentence left his mouth.

Tony’s mouth thinned. “Yeah?” he said, taking a sip of his drink, ice clinking in the glass. “You gonna yell at me like everyone else?”

Bucky frowned, tried to think of why anyone would be yelling at Tony. Well, he could think of a lot of reasons, but none to do with the video he’d watched. “You gonna try and kill me again?”

Tony glanced at Loki, whose eyes literally _twinkled_, and let out a pained laugh. “You gonna kill any more of my relatives?”

Bucky shrugged, took a sip of his water. “Depends on how good of a birthday present you got me,” he drawled, and Tony boggled at him for a moment before letting out a loud guffaw and clapping Bucky on the back. Then Tony excused himself and went over to talk to Steve, who stiffened and then welcomed him into his conversation with Natasha.

Clint and Sam came strolling back, Sam sliding one of his arms around Bucky’s waist and slipping his hand into the back pocket of Bucky’s jeans. Bucky glanced over Clint and Loki and then leaned into Sam’s side. He didn’t have anything to worry about here. 

“So,” Bucky drawled, “looks like I won the bet.”

Loki just looked amused, he and Clint doing that thing were they were clearly having a conversation without moving their mouths. Bucky kind of wondered what that would be like, if he’d like something like that with Sam. Then again, there was no guarantee that Sam would want that kind of thing with _him_. He knew that Sam loved him, but there was a difference in love and telepathy or whatever it was that Clint and Loki did.

“He didn’t make a sound,” Loki confirmed, a sly smile on his lips. “I was disappointed.”

“You didn’t want me to win?” Clint asked him, tipping his head back to smile up at Loki. Loki rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t care who won,” Loki replied, reaching out long fingers to brush them over Clint’s cheek. “I just like watching Tony Stark _jump_.”

Sam laughed at the lot of them. “There was a bet?” he asked, taking another sip of his drink. “What’d you win, Buck?”

“Clint promised to tell me a secret,” Bucky said. “And, yeah, we bet on something. Doesn’t really matter.”

Sam just shrugged and turned his head when Steve called his name. He pressed a kiss to Bucky’s cheek and swaggered off to bother Steve and Tony and Natasha. Bucky raised an eyebrow at Clint and Loki, who both had twin looks of amusement on their faces.

“Well?”

Clint slid his hands into his pockets and leaned against Loki’s side in a way that suggested he was being a lot more casual than he wanted. “Any secret?” he asked, a look in his eyes that made Bucky frown. 

“Yeah,” Bucky said slowly, cautiously. “Just something you and Loki know.”

Clint smiled, showing all his teeth. Bucky suddenly felt the way all the people at the other end of Clint’s arrows must’ve felt. He leaned forward and whispered in Bucky’s ear.

* * *

* * *

Loki’s present ended up turning out to be hidden in 20 ever-smaller boxes. Bucky didn’t even care what it was, he just wanted the whole party to be over. He was tired and Clint’s words were echoing through his head and he was overstimulated and he just wanted to curl up with Sam and sleep for fifteen hours straight. 

He finally tore through the last box and held up a notebook. It was a journal. A fucking _gorgeous_ journal, made out of something similar to black snakeskin, with the initials JBB engraved in gold on the front cover. He opened it and there was a letter from Loki, printed out in his pointed, slanting script, and underneath that, there was another letter from Clint, scrawled in his barely legible handwriting. 

“Thanks,” he choked out, and if he was anyone else, he would’ve hugged one of them. 

Afterwards, after he opened the rest of the presents—a Starkphone from Tony that he had promptly lost, a pair of underwear with the Captain America shield right over the crotch from Steve, and a Russian-English dictionary from Nat, which Bucky thought was _hilarious_—and Sam was asleep in bed next to him, thoroughly worn out, Bucky grabbed his phone, only to find there was already a text from Clint. 

_We’re on the porch. Come down whenever you’re done making Sam really earn those stars and stripes._

Bucky rolled his eyes and slid out of bed, pulling on Sam’s favorite hoodie and a pair of sweats. He softly closed the bedroom door behind him and silently crept down the stairs, making his way quickly outside. 

Steve was on the porch swing, Loki curled into his side, still with that same damn amused look on his face he’d had all night. Clint was laying on the porch floor flat on his back, some weird potion vial in his hand. Loki noticed him first and waved his hand, a comfortable seat appearing next to the swing. Bucky took it, running his hand through his hair. 

“What did they tell you?” Steve asked. “Neither of them will tell me what it was.” He sounded a bit petulant, which had Bucky hiding a grin. 

“It was about Stark,” he said, unsure if Steve actually wanted to know, or if Loki or Clint cared if Steve knew. Bucky assumed they didn’t, but he was a helluva lot more wary of Loki than he trusted Steve. 

Steve made a sound like he was thinking it over and Bucky wanted to make a joke about not taxing his brain so hard, but Clint spoke up instead, “Steve, do you genuinely want to know? Or do you just think you _should_ know?”

Steve considered that for a good minute, and then he asked, “Is there a reason I didn’t already know?”

“You always seemed to dislike being told of my actions that you’d generally disapprove of,” Loki offered up, and Steve thought about that for another minute. 

“I’m not Captain America right now,” he finally said, “so if it’s something to do with that, he’s asleep upstairs. If it’s something else, something _I_ don’t need to know, then I can wait. I’m fine with that.”

Bucky was genuinely shocked. He didn’t want to say anything, but holy shit. “You sure?” he asked. “I remember you sitting my sisters down and interrogating them about their days and if any fella said anything uncouth to them, you’d find out his name and go try to beat the shit outta him.”

“Uncouth?” Clint muttered from the porch floor. 

Steve just shrugged, leaned his cheek against Loki’s head, and there was something lighter in his expression, something about him carrying less of a burden. “These past couple weeks have been all about trust,” Steve said quietly. “That’s why we’re in the woods, that’s why we’re in seclusion. That’s why we’re gonna get married. So if Loki says I don’t need to know something, I’m gonna believe him.”

Loki’s mouth curled in a smile that was all sharp teeth.

Bucky just swallowed and asked about the potion Clint was cradling. 

Clint let out a sound that was somehow both giggle and groan. “It’s a pain potion,” he said, and held it up to the light, red contents glittering. “Makes everything hurt.”

Clint sat up and took another swig and then pinched at his own arm, tears sliding down his cheeks. He had a look on his face that was peaceful, almost content, and Bucky stiffened, feeling like he was interrupting something he never should’ve been witness to. Whatever this was, it went a lot further than Clint and Loki giving each other baths or sleeping together, and Bucky honestly wanted no damn part of it. He owed Loki his life and no more than that.

He remembered the way Loki had promised him that if he ever hurt Clint again that he’d wish HYDRA had found him and he shuddered. 

“You cold?” Steve asked, sitting up straight. “Buck, maybe you should go back to bed.”

Bucky met Loki’s glittering green eyes and he nodded. “Yeah,” he choked out, and pushed to his feet. “Sam kinda wore me out anyway. So I’m gonna go back to sleep.” He gave them an awkward wave and darted back inside the house, not bothering to be quiet. He slid back into bed and Sam curled up next to him, arms tight around him, lips murmuring his name against his neck. 

He wondered what they were talking about outside on the porch, if it had anything to do with him. He wondered what kind of bonds Steve and Loki were choosing for their wedding, if Steve knew what he was getting himself into. 

It was a long, long while before Bucky found sleep.

* * *

Clint was shivering. Loki was watching him. 

Steve had gone to bed a while after Bucky, curling up alone in the middle of Loki’s huge bed. 

Loki had dropped the glamour once Steve had left, the porch slowly growing colder and colder until Clint was shaking and his lips were turning blue and he couldn’t feel his hands and feet anymore. The pain potion had long been emptied. Steve had turned down a sip of it, but he’d thought about it, and had said he’d consider trying it later. 

Loki had smiled at that. 

Clint shivered, unable to control himself anymore, still lying flat on his back, eyes locked on the porch roof. “Th-th-this is w-w-worse th-than the dr-drown-drowning,” he stammered out. “M-make it st-stop.”

Loki considered cooling the temperature around them even further, and then looked at the snow he’d summoned, the ice on the windows, the icicles on the porch railing, and he sighed. Wouldn’t be much fun if Clint froze to death. So Loki pulled the Jotun seidr back in, slowly enough that Clint gradually warmed back up, and he stepped over Clint’s quivering form to go look out at the stars. 

“Was that the first time you ever asked me to stop?”

Clint had no damn idea. It felt like his brain was a solid block of ice. “S-sh-sure,” he tried, and Loki just hummed at him. He flexed his hands, trying to work the blood back into them. “S-s-say-seidr?”

Loki considered the stars above. “You wish for my seidr or for me to warm yours?”

“M-mi-mine.”

Loki smiled at that, smiled in the way a shark smiles. He flicked his hand and Clint shuddered and almost seized and then slumped to the floor. He was finally allowed to look away from the porch ceiling and he sat up, hands shaking. 

“That was a bit too much,” Clint finally decided. “Even for me.”

“You would prefer less?”

“Yeah, boss.”

Neither of them said anything for a good long while, Clint listing against the porch railing as he dozed off. Loki considered Clint’s request, actually feeling a bit guilty about it. Surely he should’ve noticed Clint’s distress before it had been brought up. He’d been distracted, hadn’t been as attentive as usual. 

Loki turned and looked at Clint, passed out on the porch. The poor boy. He’d had a rough few days as it was and Loki had to go nearly freeze him half to death on top of it. Scowling at himself, Loki swooped in and picked Clint up, clutching the archer to his chest, and he stormed into the house, marching off to his rooms. He deposited Clint in bed and pushed and shoved until Clint was curled in between himself and Steve, and finally, he could feel the way sleep slid into Clint’s bones, the way his body loosened. 

_I’m sorry,_ Loki murmured, lips brushing over Clint’s sleeping forehead. _I’ll take better care of you. I promise._

* * *

“Where’s Valkyrie?” Loki asked Natasha the next morning, handing Clint a cup of coffee and a full plate of food. “Strange that she would not come to see her Prince.” Loki posted up next to Clint and clasped his hands together under his chin, watching with mismatched eyes as Clint ate his breakfast. 

“She’s back at the Avengers Facility,” Nat replied, scooping some eggs onto her toast and taking a careful, measured bite. “New recruits have to be trained. You know the drill.”

“Did you ever find those agents that activated poor Bucky?”

“Poor Bucky?” Natasha mouthed at Clint, who just gave her a bored shrug. “We found their ties to the now-officially-missing HYDRA affiliate Paul Remond, who was the one who planted the Chair in the Raft, and apparently got Barnes’ activation words from Thor and passed them on to the highest buyer. We also found ties between Remond and Ross and a company called Power Enterprises.”

“Buyer, huh?” Clint asked casually, like Loki hadn’t just summoned every single spice in the entire kitchen and wasn’t offering them to him one at a time. Steve staggered into the kitchen and rubbed at his eyes in a way that looked far too adorable on a guy who was over six feet tall and a couple hundred pounds. He stepped up to the table and made a curious noise at Clint’s plate. 

“Put some ground mustard on your eggs,” Steve said, looking up as a plate floated over to him. 

Clint wrinkled his nose. “Sounds gross.”

“Oh, it’s nasty as hell,” Steve assured him, taking a seat on Loki’s other side, and Steve saying that had Clint shrugging and tapping out some ground mustard onto a forkful of eggs. He ate it and immediately grimaced and shuddered and Nat rolled her eyes so hard it felt like they were going to pop out of her head. 

Loki just showed him the next jar of spices, watching Clint with that same careful and assessing look that made Natasha’s hair stand up on end. She’d heard about the curse, of course she had, and she’d never really liked Loki, but she’d only been creeped out by him ever since he’d returned from being comatose on Asgard. And it wasn’t like it was _easy_ to creep Natasha out, either. In fact, it was something she’d prided herself on. But Loki was just...off. Weird. Made her skin itch. 

Bucky and Sam came downstairs, each of them carrying one of Clint’s kids, Laura right behind them, cradling Nate to her chest. Nat immediately held out her hands for the baby, which Laura gratefully gave her. Bucky and Sam deposited their respective children at the kitchen table, and they both immediately latched onto Steve and started eating his food. 

Bucky and Sam got a few plates of food and sat down, Bucky sharing with Cooper and Lila determinedly only eating off Steve’s plate. 

Nat watched in shock. She’d forgotten that they’d all lived together in this house for quite some time. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling like an outsider, and then Clint coughed and dropped a jar of some kind of spice and then guzzled down a glass of water. 

“Didn’t think pumpkin spice would taste like that,” he rasped out, and shook his head at the next spice container that Loki showed him. “If I eat any more nasty crap, I’ll puke.”

All of the spice jars floated back to their original homes, and Nat looked at Loki, who had turned his attention to Lila, looking like he actually cared about her prattling on about what she wanted to do at school that day. 

“Hey,” Clint said, looking at Nat. “Did the Avengers ever get a PR person? Is that who runs the Twitter account?”

Even Loki looked interested, which Nat figured was fair, given that he’d given the Avengers Initiative an absolute crap-ton of money and then had never really followed up on what was actually being done with it. “Kind of,” Nat replied, taking a sip of coffee. “We had a lady named Norma up until the Accords, when she quit. Kate and I switch off now.”

“What’s Twitter?” Bucky asked, sounding like he’d asked the question before and wasn’t really expecting an answer. 

“I know what Twitter is!” Lila exclaimed. “I’ll show you!” She held out her hand. “Let me see your phone.”

“How do you know what Twitter is?” Clint asked. Both of his kids ignored him, which Nat thought was fair.

Slowly, Bucky handed her his flip phone. Lila and Cooper nearly fell off their seats in which. “A flip phone!” Cooper yelled. “I thought those were made up!”

“Didn’t Mr. Stark give you a Starkphone last night?” Lila asked, holding the flip phone like it was a particularly nasty bug. 

“Yeah,” Bucky replied sheepishly. “Not sure where it is, though.” He shot Sam a pleading look but Sam was no help, given that he was chortling into his bacon. “Uh, Loki? Do you know where it went?”

Loki slowly turned his head so that he was looking directly at Bucky. He held out a hand, palm up, and Bucky’s new Starkphone appeared in his hand, and he handed it over without saying anything. Clint snorted under his breath and picked up his plate to take it to the sink. He took Nat’s plate as well, and got himself more coffee after rinsing the dishes and sliding them into the dishwasher. Bucky frowned down at the phone and then sheepishly handed it over to Lila.

Lila and Cooper both crowded up into Bucky’s lap and explained the phone to him, showed him which apps to download, how to figure out adding contacts and calling people, and then they were both sternly informing Clint and Laura that they needed each Starkphones of their own. Clint shrugged at them and Laura said that they might get Christmas presents, and Steve muttered something that Tony would probably just send some over later.

Then that devolved into an argument about whether or not Tony had the Starkphone AI, a natural-language user interface program that answered to ‘Starkphone’ or whatever other name the user decided on, and also had secret personalities that were only activated if the user programmed the corresponding name, listening in on conversations and recording them and sending the information back to a Stark Industries database to be used for advertising and even more nefarious purposes. Steve pointed out that he’d known Stark men for longer than any of them and he wouldn’t put it past Howard, which meant Tony would probably do it as well. Nat refused to join in but casually pulled out her iPhone to check her email, which had everyone else devolving into _another_ conversation and Bucky asking if he should get one of those instead, and then there was a thump on the porch and the sound of a drone flying away.

Lila and Cooper raced each other to the porch door and cheered at the sight of four brand new Starkphones, one for all of the eligible Bartons, already activated and their phone plans transferred to the new phones. Laura looked reluctantly delighted and Loki fiddled with Clint’s new phone for a couple minutes before giving it to him. Lila and Cooper dragged Bucky into the living room so the three of them could compare their new phones and download the right apps and Clint sighed at them and called them in sick to school.

Somewhere in the middle of all of the commotion, Loki, Steve, and Sam retreated to Loki’s rooms.

Sam dropped to the armchair while Loki and Steve took up residence on the couch, one of Steve’s arms over Loki’s shoulders, the two of them pressed together from knee to hip to shoulder. “So, how was it?” Steve asked, a soft smile on his face as he looked at Sam. “How was it being Captain America?”

Sam shook his head, rubbed at his mouth, blinked the emotion out of his eyes. “It was...it was good, man. I know how this is gonna sound, but being Captain America gives you kind of a firmness, a kind of faith in yourself, really makes you feel _solid_. Like your feet are planted in solid ground.”

Steve looked shocked, slid his arm off Loki’s shoulders, clasped his hands in between his knees. “No one else has ever got it,” he breathed. “Sam, you know, they made me for a purpose. I’m not 90lbs and asthmatic and sick all the time for a _reason_, and that’s because Erskine knew I would always stand up, not when it was the only thing I could do.”

Loki gently laid his hand on Steve’s forearm. “Taking a well-deserved rest for all of a month is not standing down,” he murmured softly. “It is not even taking a break. It is taking care of yourself so you can help other people.” Sam thought it sounded like something Loki had repeated many times over the past few weeks, and Steve just nodded, tension slipping out of his shoulders. Loki’s mismatched eyes slipped over to Sam. “I am glad it is you. It is a heavy mantle to wear, but you wear it well.”

Sam nodded automatically before his brain really understood what Loki was saying, and he dropped his head to his hands. “You never told me why you chose me, Steve,” he said, voice muffled a bit by his palms.

“You’re a good man, Sam,” Steve told him gently. “It’s about...the shield is about always standing up, because it’s the right thing to do. The shield represents that belief, same with the uniform, same with the name. It means _hope,_ Sam. I think it’s a different kind of hope, these days, but it’s still the same thing.” He reached out to rest his hand on Sam’s knee. “Sam, I have faith in you. You’re always going to do what’s right, what the shield represents, what the uniform represents. What _you_ represent, now. It can be...it can be hard sometimes. But it’s never not been worth it.” Steve sat up straight, pulling his hand back, and he shot Loki a soft look. “Even if you don’t win the battle, what you get to come home to makes it worth it.”

Sam nodded, clenched his fists, let out a breath from deep in his soul. “We got real lucky, huh,” he remarked, almost like he didn’t believe it. “All of us. We all got more than we ever thought we would.”

Both Steve and Loki nodded, Loki’s eyes glittering in a way that none of them remarked on.

“Strange how Stark didn’t give us Starkphones, huh,” Sam commented, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Told him once if he gave me one I’d break it,” he muttered.

Sam grinned at him. “Doubt Captain America can be seen doing brand promotions like that anyway,” he teased, and Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t piss off Fury,” Steve advised, watching Loki as the god decided he was bored with their conversation and got up and left, “or he’ll make you do anti-drug ads for high-schoolers.” Sam laughed. “SHIELD’ll give you a whole list of things you’re not allowed to do in public now, but I’d advise you to just toss it. It gets so long and contradictory that you can’t keep it straight and you end up messing up regardless. The politics are the worst part of it all. It was a lot easier when everything was just punching Nazis and ignoring your commanding officers.”

They both turned their heads to watch as Loki, returning from the kitchen, led Clint into the bedroom, firmly shutting the door behind them. Sam raised an eyebrow at Steve, who just shook his head. “Better not to ask,” Steve sighed. “One thing you learn as Captain America is that it’s sometimes better to not know.”

* * *

There were realities in which Clint died before Loki did. 

He wasn’t in one of those at the moment, however. He was in one of the timelines where it went remarkably similar to that first life, Life One, only Loki somehow made a miraculous escape from Thanos’s hand around his neck or even didn’t go on the Statesman at all. 

Clint watched as Natasha died on Vormir, as she wrenched herself away from him, as she plummeted down, down, down, crashing into the ground and—and—

He was alone. 

She was gone, and he was alone. Alone on some shitty planet in the middle of all creation and he woke up in a fucking pond and there was the Soul Stone, but that didn’t even _matter_ because Natasha, his best friend, the closest he’d ever had to a sister, the love of his fucking life, was _gone_. What was even the point—

Clint jerked out of the timeline, back into reality, into his reality, where Loki was sitting next to him in bed, painting his nails and trying on new rings and Clint scrambled to the bathroom, gagging into the toilet. He found his phone or summoned it or fucking created a new one and his hands didn’t stop shaking until the line was ringing and then Nat’s tired voice came through the line. 

“Clint?” she asked, because it was almost two in the morning and he’d spent the entire night watching another version of himself lose everyone in his life. “What is it?”

“You’re okay?” he panted, and then screwed his eyes shut. “You sound fine, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Clint,” she said, and she sounded slow and cautious in a way that made him wince. “What’s wrong? Are you—Clint, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said with a sigh, heart slowing it’s frantic pace in his chest. He looked up to see Loki in the doorway. “I just had a bad dream.”

“Bad dream?” she repeated. 

“Yeah. Sorry to wake you.”

He hung up and puked in the toilet again. 

Loki looked impassive but felt concerned, so Clint didn’t feel any trepidation about crawling over to press his face to Loki’s feet and just kind of slump into a sad little ball. There was a lot he wanted to say but it was mostly incoherent and could be boiled down to _I want you to take care of me because I’m sad_, and he managed to push whatever that emotion was at Loki, who murmured something about him being pathetic and little and small and then picked him up and carried him back to bed. 

Loki covered the bed in a film of seidr and tugged off Clint’s clothes until he was wrapped in seidr and he curled up in the exact center of the bed, under the covers and breathing in his own breath and remembering that he was alive and Nat was alive and Thanos wasn’t going to fucking get any of them. 

Seidr slipped his hearing aids from his ears and he managed to finally, finally relax. 

_No wonder you woke up in such a fright_, Loki said, like he’d just had a nightmare and not watched himself try to kill himself so his best friend could live. But Clint just shrugged and closed his eyes and it was warm, the way it hadn’t been on Vormir. 

A few minutes later, Steve slid into bed, legs bracketing around Clint’s back, creating a nice little pocket for him to curl up in. Then Loki slipped under the covers as well, and Clint rested his head on Loki’s bare thigh and wow. Wow. It was good. 

He was able to sleep. Clint liked sharing Loki’s dreams, except when they were sex dreams. It was nice. He liked knowing what Loki’s unconscious was thinking about, liked knowing even more about the god than he already knew. He liked knowing what things happened every day to trigger a dream about Thor or Killian or Thanos, what events would trigger a nightmare that somehow managed to star all three of them, or even the days that would churn out dreams about Frigga or Odin or the Isle of Silence. 

Clint’s mind felt like Swiss cheese sometimes, but he knew where he belonged.

* * *

Clint’s waking hours were then devoted to solely exploring other timelines and seeing where they’d gone wrong, Thanos’s patterns, if they ever won, how far they got, anything at all that could help them. Loki had created a portal between his rooms and the small hut that Bucky and Sam had been staying in in Wakanda, which meant that Bucky was hanging out with Clint whenever Sam went on mission, which was fairly often. At least a few days a week. More than Clint had been expecting, actually, which meant that some of the missions were actually training or briefings or working with the new Avengers or talking with Tony. Loki and Steve had gone back to the cabin at the nearest opportunity, and Loki was constantly full of satisfaction and lust and a far deeper well of contentment than Clint had ever thought possible. 

Basically, everything was going good for everyone besides Clint, who spent his days in various levels of hell and his nights in whatever madness Loki’s unconscious cooked up for him. At least Bucky was around, although Clint kept stepping into realities where the two of them were _together_ in some form or fashion and then he had to wake up and not offer to suck his dick. Clint wasn’t a wedding ring type of guy, but he ended up digging his out of some junk drawer in the kitchen and sliding it on. It had L♡C engraved inside and there was no way he could see that and think he and Bucky were together at all. 

Clint frowned down at that very same wedding ring. “I just realized our kids both have names starting with the same letters as Clint and Laura,” he said out loud, and Bucky made a sound that people usually made when Clint said something dumber than usual. 

“How did you not realize that?” Bucky asked, which was a fair question. 

He didn’t know how to tell him that there were things he just didn’t notice, things that were always obvious to other people, things that he just missed because he was dumb and not as good as everyone else. So Clint just shrugged and slid his wedding ring back on and got up to get himself some coffee. 

After a few hundred other timelines, Clint started to notice the patterns. He didn’t know if they resulted from Thor trying something new or if that was just how universes or dimensions worked, every slightly different one arching off similar concepts until it became something completely new. 

He was on version thirty of various forms of Clint Barton being in a relationship with Scott Lang when Sam Wilson kissed him. It took Clint a very long time to realize it was not _actual_ Sam Wilson and it was not-Sam and he spent an entire night flinching away from Bucky and refusing to watch Captain America and Hawkeye’s interview on TV before remembering that the Clint Barton of that universe had had a dog and there was no dog in the house he was in and ergo, different timeline. 

His head hurt all the time. He’d stopped trying to keep notes other than cryptic scrawling that usually looked like _CB/SL. No T. No L. L d: ch._, which meant that that version of him had been in a relationship with Scott Lang, neither Thanos nor Loki had shown up, and not-Clint had clutched at his chest before the time loop ended. 

It sucked supremely. Beyond supremely, in fact. Because Clint was alone and Loki was a few states away, hiding away in some cabin even though Clint had a perfectly good house and he was _alone_. He couldn’t even sleep in the same bed as his wife because he kept waking up near the foot of the bed and Laura hated pressure on her legs while she slept so he ended up sliding to the floor and then she’d wake up on the middle of the night to go to the bathroom or feed Nate and she’d step on him and so he just decided that sleeping in Loki’s bed was better. 

He didn’t bother Loki with any of it. Loki was in seclusion and preparing for his wedding. What was Clint compared to that? He remembered Loki picking him up from the toilet after he’d puked his soul into it and calling him pathetic and tears welled up in his eyes. Even if he asked, Loki wouldn’t help him. 

Someone called his name and Clint jerked, coming back to himself. He was sitting at his kitchen table, his family all sitting around him, all of them looking at him with identical looks of concern. Clint wanted to sink into the ground. 

He could feel the seidr holding his skin together begin to tremble, and Clint pushed to his feet. He didn’t even apologize, he just ran outside. He didn’t make it any further than the porch, because what if Loki came back? What if Loki came back and Clint was nowhere to be found and Loki gave up on him? What if Loki was looking for him but Clint wasn’t where he was supposed to be?

“Clint,” Laura said, and he turned to look at her. God, he didn’t deserve her. She sat on the porch swing and just looked at him, expressionless. “Come over here and sit down.”

He staggered, but he did as he was told. He sat down at her feet and pressed his forehead to her knees. “Laura, I don’t—I don’t know what’s real—”

“I didn’t tell you you could speak,” she told him, and his jaw clicked shut. “Here’s what you’re going to do, Clint. You’re going to sit there and you’re going to listen to me, and then you’re going to take your aids out after I’m done talking. You’re going to sit there for as long as it takes for you to stop thinking. I’ll sit here all night if I have to.” Laura’s thin fingers slid into his hair and pulled and Clint’s mind went immediately, completely blank. “Nod if you understand.”

He nodded. 

_Resistant to authority_, he remembered one SHIELD therapist writing in his file. _Overly subservient_, another wrote. 

He took out his aids and handed them over. Laura took them and kept her hand in his hair. 

He sunk down.

* * *

Loki swirled his wine around in his chalice and watched the whirlpool in the middle, the dark red sloshing over the sides, the immediate stains on his hand. “Yes,” he said, “I made a deal.”

“She has his soul,” Balder told him. “How can she want more?”

Loki elegantly shrugged one shoulder. “She is Hela,” he said simply. “The dead always want more.”

Balder sighed. “What else does she wish for? If she will fight for us, we will give it.”

“Fenrir,” Loki said, taking a slow, long sip, rolling the wine around in his mouth. “The Casket. She asked for the Tablet of Life and Time but I refused.”

Balder thought about it. “I already returned the Casket of Ancient Winters to Laufey,” he informed Loki, who gave him a slanted look. “Why would she wish for Fenrir?”

“He was hers, once,” Loki said. “When she was exiled, Odin killed him, laid his corpse in the vaults.” He looked back at his wine and took another sip. “I was considering asking for her assistance for when Thanos comes to Midgard. His strength lies in his armies, in being able to overwhelm his opponents. However, if we have the armies of Midgard and Asgard as well as the armies of Hel, losing is far less likely.”

Balder continued to think. It almost looked like steam was going to come out of his ears. “How do we confirm her loyalties?”

“She did not turn her armies against us when we battled upon the Bifrost,” Loki reminded him. “But you are the only one of us that ever knew her. Would the Hela you knew betray Asgard for Thanos?”

“The sister I knew as children would not,” Balder finally sighed. “And she does have his Children and his allies. Would she have taken them if she was only going to give them back to Thanos in the end?”

“She wanted more than Thor,” Loki remembered. “He was the key that opened the lock, but she wanted more than him. So I gave her Thanos’s Children. Or most of them, at least.”

Balder gave him a slow, careful look that had the back of Loki’s neck crawling. “If she brings her army, Thor will be among them. Will you be able to stomach that, Prince?”

He pushed to his feet and began to pace, abandoning the chalice on the nearest table, clasping his hands behind his back. He could not imagine seeing Thor again, undead or otherwise. Even the thought of it sent ants over his skin. He didn’t—no. He would not. “I would kill him again,” Loki finally said, his voice stiff. “If I meet him in battle, I would not rest until his soul was torn again into two. But he is dead and I am not, so, truly, there is no saying what I may or may not do."

Balder gave him a searching look and then nodded. “I will pass word along to the Einherjar. Tell your compatriots. I will send word to Hel that she may return for her mutt.”

"Nay," Loki interrupted. "Let me take him to her."

"Since when has anyone let you do anything?" The two brothers shared small, amused smiles and then Balder glanced over Loki’s skin, at the fraying glamor, at the blue skin peeking between white. “Would your...changing visage relate to the return of the Casket?”

“How many months ago did you return it?”

“Six?” Balder shrugged. “Perhaps more. Perhaps less.”

Close enough. Loki examined his hands, at the blue skin and the heritage marks, and he frowned. “How does Asgard feel about a Jotun Prince?” he asked, examining the difference in his nails. 

“Bor, Odin’s father, was half Jotun,” Balder revealed with a careless shrug, leaning across the table to refill his chalice with more wine. “Once they began the war, Odin made certain to hide his heritage, as well as he hid his children.”

Loki retook his seat and pressed his fingers to his mouth. “I wish I was surprised,” he finally sighed. “Yet little that happens on this Realm surprises me, especially to do with the royal family.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I will tell Hela she can have her beast back. In return, we expect her army when we kill Thanos.”

Balder lifted his chalice in celebration. “We will win,” he informed Loki sternly. “All the armies of Asgard and the Nine Realms against the Mad Titan? What option do we have other than to win?”

Loki raised his own glass and drank deeply from it without saying a word. What other choice indeed.

“How fares your betrothed?”

“He enjoys seclusion,” Loki said pointedly. “The unfinished bond pulls at him like a curse. But we are coming to the end soon. Only two more weeks.”

“Who marries you?”

Loki cast Balder a sly look. “Why, I would only hope my King, of course.” Balder let out a roar of joy and reached across the space between their chairs to give Loki a celebratory slap on the back. Balder called for a servant to bring them celebratory ale, which had Loki giving him a pained look and opening a pocket dimension to pull out a small vial of truly potent liquor. 

“Wine made from Idunn’s apples,” Loki said, and conjured up two small cups for them. “Little it can be used for other than a celebration.”

“You can request apples from her,” Balder said, taking his cup and sniffing at it. “Even Idunn would be hard-pressed to turn down a request from the Prince.”

“She detests me but I will consider it.” Loki lifted his cup and Balder followed, and then the two of them took small sips. Balder shuddered and then tipped his head back and laughed uproariously. 

“Delightful!” he boomed. “Now, Loki-Prince, what bonds have you chosen?”

“Steve wishes for a telepathic connection, and to see one another’s memories. I managed to convince him to agree to only conscious telepathy and very moderate memory sharing, for I fear it would be far too overwhelming for his...small mind. For all his strengths, he is still only human. He also wishes for emotion sharing, which is easy enough.”

“No heart bond? No fidelity spells? I expected more from you, Loki.”

Loki frowned a bit. “He wishes to be married first in the Midgardian tradition. He tells me the vows we make there are as good as any bond.” Balder thought about that, a frown creasing his forehead. “We have agreed upon a traditional bond, _leyfa_.”

Balder’s mouth fell open. “You clearly think highly of him,” he remarked, and Loki’s mouth turned down. “I hope he considers you as highly...Loki, you deserve no less.”

“Thank you,” Loki replied stiffly, looking down into his glass of apple wine. “I cannot fathom what he sees in me, but I have no compunction in turning him away if he truly considers me worthy.”

“Anyone who wields Mjolnir is worthy,” Balder teased, and Loki rolled his eyes. “You may not be the most classically beautiful Aesir, brother, but you are as attractive as any. I know that the Captain sees you for you who are and cares for you despite it all.”

Dark green eyes flashed as Loki turned his head to look at Balder.

Balder gulped down the rest of his wine and burped. He slammed his cup down onto the table. “There is talk that this relationship of yours is moving rather quickly, brother.”

Loki inclined his head as he considered that. “So may it be,” he acknowledged, "but it is my relationship, and therefore no concern of anyone else's."

"Does Steve have any comment?"

"Steve will take whatever I give him," Loki replied a bit smugly. "But he has raised no true concern." He fiddled with his cup. "I have had many thoughts about this," Loki finally admitted. "My instinct was to run. But after I saw Steve's reaction to Thanos, I knew I could no longer ignore the pull of our souls. I saw myself in Clint's memories and knew there was no sense in letting myself live without him."

Balder swayed a bit in his seat. “And how does the little human fare?” Loki declined to answer and Balder just sighed. “I assume you have no desire to assist me in matters of state, Prince?”

“I would rather be shot in the head,” Loki grumbled, but Balder just laughed.

“The King takes your concerns under advisement,” Balder teased, pushing to his feet. He tried to gently pat Loki on the back but ended up slapping him hard enough to knock the air out of Loki’s lungs. Balder blinked a few times and held up one of his hands in front of his face, swaying gently. “I believe your King is very drunk, Loki,” he slurred, and Loki caught him before he could crumple to the ground.

Loki called for a servant and the moment before the servant scurried into the room, he pulled a few hairs out of Balder’s head and slid them into his pocket. “He must have drank a bit too much,” Loki said as the servant helped Balder to his feet and escorted him from the room. Loki vanished the cups and the jar of apple wine and then smoothed down his robes and brushed off his shoulders and then opened a path through the dimensions back home.

* * *

Carefully and slowly, Loki knelt next to the bed, sliding his hands over the backs of Steve’s quivering thighs, and he slid his palms over Steve’s cheeks, slipping his thumb down in between to brush over Steve’s hole. Steve gasped and Loki tutted under his breath.

“You asked me for this,” he murmured, leaning in close, blowing air over Steve’s hole. Steve let out a soft, desperate sound and Loki leaned in to press his mouth against the tight muscle. “Let Loki take care of you.”

“I like when—when you talk like that,” Steve gasped out. “When you act like I have to _let_ you do anything.”

Loki rewarded him with a lick, ran the pad of his thumb over Steve’s entrance. Steve pressed back up into it and let out another gasp when Loki’s thumb sunk in. “You like taking charge,” Loki murmured, sliding his thumb out and putting his mouth to work, licking and sucking until Steve was digging his fingers into the mattress and panting and trying not to beg. Loki pulled back and smiled at the way Steve had pushed his hips up and his cock was leaking into the side of the bed.

“Reach back, hold yourself open for me,” he ordered, his voice still soft. He sat back and stroked himself a few times, watching as Steve balanced himself on his shoulders and grabbed both of his cheeks and pulled them apart, steadying himself on his feet. He was balanced on the edge of the bed, flushed and already looking fucked out even though Loki had spent only a few minutes working him over. “You always take such good care of me,” Loki said gently, standing up and smoothing his hands over the wide expanse of Steve’s back. Steve grunted and tried to push up into more contact but Loki shushed him. Loki took his own cock in his hand and a bit of seidr slid inside Steve, stretching him and wetting him. “It’s good for you to let someone else take care of you,” Loki told him, setting the head of his cock against Steve’s hole. “Beg me for it.”

Steve keened. “Fuck me,” he begged. “Loki, _please_.”

Loki reached forward, pushing his chest up against Steve’s back, leaning more of his weight on Steve’s shoulders, causing the Captain to tremble and brace against him. Steve tried to push back up into Loki’s dick, let him slide deeper inside, but Loki just tutted at him. He kept his stomach tight and stopped his hips from thrusting, just an inch of him inside. Loki straightened up and pushed down on Steve’s back with one hand, and with the other, slipped his fingers into Steve’s open, begging mouth.

He pressed down on Steve’s tongue, slid the pads of his fingers over Steve’s teeth, over the soft inside of his cheeks. He pulled back when Steve whimpered and spread the wet saliva over his cock, and then without warning, sunk completely inside. Steve’s hands fell away from his ass and he moaned.

Loki thrust lazily inside, slowly twisting his hips, taking as much pleasure from Steve as he wanted. His Captain was so hot, so tight, so good to him. “How many times have you been fucked in your life, my Captain?” he asked, tone slow and lazy. “Personally, I enjoy being in your position. Feeling your body yield and welcome and become so _desperate_.” He gave a particularly hard thrust that had Steve gasping, pushing up onto his toes to press back into Loki, who settled even deeper inside of him, twitching his hips so that his hips were firmly seated to Steve’s ass.

“I constantly feel empty,” Loki continued, spreading his hands over Steve’s hips and digging his nails in. “Like all my ass wants in life is your cock. Now you know how I constantly feel, as if I am _begging_. As if my body only wants one thing.”

Steve’s eyes rolled back in his head as Loki pulled back, the entire length of his cock pushing against his prostate. “You want me,” Steve grit out. “But right now, I have you. So _fuck_ me.”

“You do have me,” Loki mused, canting his hips back so that he slipped completely out of Steve. He took himself in hand and rubbed the length of his dick over Steve’s open, wet hole. Steve tried to push back into him but Loki ignored him, enjoying the look of his own dick against the Captain’s skin. Finally, much to Steve’s relief, he entered him again, sliding deep down, all the way to the root. “Soon,” Loki murmured, leaning over Steve’s back, bracketing him with his hands, slowly moving his hips, “you’ll have me _forever_.”

“You’re gonna be mine,” Steve breathed. “No one else will be able to touch you.” Loki smiled, rewarded Steve with a particularly deep, hard thrust.

“A god at your feet,” Loki replied, pulsing his hips in a slow, regular rhythm. “What will you do? Take over the world? Rule a galaxy?”

“Gonna do whatever the fuck I want,” Steve bit out, pushing his hands underneath himself so he could push up and shove back onto Loki’s dick. Loki stopped him and kept up the same maddenly slow rhythm. 

“Good,” Loki said. “This is about me,” he continued, mouth curling in a smile. “Me taking care of you. You don’t get to control this, Steve. For this singular moment, you belong to me.”

“I was already yours,” Steve bit out. “Whatever power trip this is, get over it and fuck me.”

“Power trip,” Loki mused. “An interesting phrase coming from the man who enjoys using me as a cock sleeve.” 

Steve groaned, spreading his legs out so his hips were tipped up, and Loki gave him another hard, deep thrust. “You’re so good at it,” he replied breathlessly. “So good for me.”

Loki sped up, much to Steve’s relief. “One day I want you to tie me up,” Loki told him between grunts, “and use my body however pleases you. Fuck me while I’m sleeping. Choke me until I pass out and fuck me until I wake up. Use me and fill me up.”

Steve clenched around him and came, gasping out Loki’s name as he shot over the bed.

Loki dragged Steve back until his face was pressed into his own spend and then fucked into him furiously, finally letting loose, single-mindedly chasing his own pleasure. It came only a minute later and he shivered as he came inside Steve, hips twitching with aftershocks.

Loki pulled out of Steve with a small gasp and quickly summoned a wet cloth and began cleaning the two of them. Steve shook the pleasure out of his head and took the cloth from Loki, gently laying the god down on the bed and wiping the both of them down. Loki cleaned the sheets and finished cleaning the both of them with a flick of seidr, and then he lay back on the bed, catching his breath.

“Did you mean that?” Steve asked quietly, moving over to rinse the cloth in the sink. 

“Which part?” Loki drawled.

“Fucking you while you’re asleep,” Steve said, attention fully on the sink. 

Loki sat up on his elbows, raising an eyebrow. “Of course,” he replied. “Would you like that? Sliding into me while I’m unaware? My body soft and yielding? Unknowing that I’m being owned?” 

Steve clutched onto the side of the counter as arousal rocketed through his system. He was still too sensitive to get hard, but his dick made a valiant attempt. “Yeah,” he finally grit out, turning off the sink. “It feels kind of gross, but I really want it.”

Loki slumped back onto the bed with a shrug. Steve joined him, laying on his side towards Loki, head propped up on his hand. He rested his hand on Loki’s stomach, watching as the glamour slowly fluttered away, leaving Loki with blue skin and darker heritage marks. Steve’s eyes dropped down to the soft alien dick on Loki’s thigh. “I wouldn’t consider it gross as long as we’re both consenting,” Loki remarked, opening his thighs so Steve could look at him all he wanted. “I doubt I could deny you anything.”

Steve nodded, eyes locked on the small furl hiding behind Loki’s small testicles. He pushed Loki’s thighs open even further and slid down the bed, leaning his chin on Loki’s cold thigh. “Doesn’t your skin burn or something? I feel like I’ve heard that.”

“It is a defense mechanism utilized by Jotun against Aesir,” Loki informed him. “I doubt my seidr would even let me use it against you.” He lifted his hips so Steve could see better. “Are you going to fuck me tonight, Captain? Wait until I’m defenseless and fuck me?”

Steve lifted his chin and smiled, moving up the bed to hold Loki’s head in his hands, cover his body with his own, and kiss him. “I love you,” Steve confessed into Loki’s mouth, chasing the god’s tongue with this own. “I want you just the way you are. I never wanted anything else. But, yes, I’m going to wait until you’re asleep and then I’m going to fuck you until you wake up.”

Loki’s red eyes brightened and he waved his hand, a potion vial appearing in his hand. It was grey and thick and Loki smiled when he saw it. “Andskotti,” Loki told him. “A paralysis potion. Brush a few drops over my tongue and I’ll be unable to move for approximately an hour. You can do whatever you wish and I cannot fight back.”

Steve surged forward and grabbed the potion, plundering Loki’s mouth until they were both breathless. Loki smiled against Steve’s mouth, pleased with himself.

“If you don’t want to do it, or if you want to stop, how will I know? If you’re paralyzed?”

“My seidr responds to me even if my body cannot move. It is a very simple spell to burn the potion out of my system, and an even easier spell to throw you away from me or send shocks through your skin until you weep. But I cannot imagine there is anything that you wish to do to me that I would deny.”

Steve sat up and blinked a few times, glancing over the potion. “Can I try it first? Just a drop or something? I want to know what you’re feeling when I feed it to you.”

Loki smiled and held out his hand for the vial, which Steve immediately gave him. Loki popped the cork and motioned for Steve to open his mouth. “Andskotti means enemy, you know,” Loki told him conversationally, red eyes glittering, dark lips curling in a sharp smile. “Aesir like to dip their arrow and spear tips in this potion. Enough of it and it will stop your heart.” He dipped a finger in and brought up a drop of potion. Steve opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. “You will not be able to breathe. You will be convinced you’re going to die. I will burn the potion out of you in 30 seconds.” Loki leaned in close. “I want you to feel this and know it’s precisely how I’m going to feel when you fuck me, Captain. Your cock is going to be the only thing I can think of. My body will be limp, my mind empty, all except for you.”

He brushed the thick grey potion over Steve’s tongue and the Captain fell back, almost falling off the bed, but Loki managed to catch him. Loki smiled at him as Steve’s eyes widened and his pupils blew and it was the longest 30 seconds of Steve’s life before Loki pressed a finger to his forehead and brief fire raced through his veins. He took in a huge, gasping breath, and then shoved Loki back to the bed, digging his fingers into Loki’s shoulders.

“How long can you go without breathing?” Steve demanded. “Safely. Not how long can you go until you die. How long until you’re in danger?”

Loki considered it, conjuring up a small green shelf and resting the paralysis potion on it before devoting his entire attention to Steve. “Perhaps a week? A day would be no trouble. I would start to feel considerable strain after a few days.”

Steve nodded, eyes blazing. “How much of that can you take?”

“As much as you wish.”

Steve nodded again and slid his hands to Loki’s throat, pressing his thumb to the pulse in Loki’s throat. “We’ll start with an hour,” he finally decided. “All I want right now is to fuck you.” Red eyes slipped down to Steve’s cock, which was quickly hardening, pre-come already beading around the tip. “But not with that potion. Not right now. Not tonight. Right now I want to wait until you’re asleep and then slide deep inside of you and fuck you until I’m all you know. I want to own your _dreams_, Loki.”

Loki shivered and slid his arms around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him close. “I like this side of you,” he said softly. “The part of you that takes what you want and refuses to take no for an answer.”

Steve smiled at him. “I know what I want,” he said gently, leaning down to give Loki another kiss. “And right now I want to fuck you.”

Loki opened his thighs. “I’m all yours.”

* * *

Loki woke up in the middle of it, of feeling Steve hunched over him like a beast, hands heavy on his hips, cock so deep and thick inside of him that Loki could almost taste it. He stayed limp and heavy, letting Steve shove and push him however he wanted, staying open and loose for him. Steve was so good to him; they matched each other so well. 

“So good,” Steve gasped out. “Loki, so fuckin’ good. Gonna fuck you again, gonna fuck you until you can’t remember anyone else ever touching you.”

Loki thought about that, stifling a whimper when Steve thrust particularly deep. He wanted that, wanted Steve to erase everyone else from his life, wanted Steve to be the only thing he knew.

“Next time,” Steve hissed, leaning forward so that he could press his mouth to Loki’s ear, “I’m going to give you that potion and I’m going to fuck you until you cry.” He nosed behind Loki’s ear and then moved down his neck, sinking his teeth into the meat where Loki’s neck met his shoulder. He ground his teeth together while Loki whimpered. Steve pulled back. “Now go the fuck back to sleep.”

“Make me,” Loki hissed, and one strong hand wrapped around his throat. He could feel the way his body yielded for Steve, the way his massive cock demanded and made a home for itself inside Loki’s body, the way the world slowly twirled down to only his awareness of Steve thrusting inside of him, and then, nothing.

* * *

“I hope I wasn’t too rough,” Steve said sheepishly the next morning, washing dishes in the sink. Loki stretched out on the bed, feeling pleasantly used and sore. Steve paused and considered that, and then he turned around to regard Loki. “You’re not...you’re into it too, right? I don’t want you thinking we can only have sex like this now, or that I don’t want you any other way.”

Loki sat up and crossed his legs underneath himself, resting his chin on his hand. It was instinct to say something rude or sarcastic, but he held himself back. Instead, he watched Steve carefully as he replied, “I will admit to having...sexual partners that communicated poorly with me. Either their own desires or my willingness to go along with their own.” Steve frowned and Loki carelessly waved a hand at him. “I enjoy being told what to do,” Loki admitted, putting more strength in the sentence than he really wanted to. “I enjoy the thought of existing only for your pleasure. I would not enjoy it being permanent, or, as you said, the only way we have sex, but it is _immensely_ satisfying.”

Steve nodded. “When you said your seidr wouldn’t let you use your natural defense against me, did you mean that?” Loki nodded slowly and Steve sighed. “I want you to feel safe. If you feel like your own _body_ can’t defend itself against me if I do something you don’t like…” Steve shook his head. “I don’t want that. I want you to be comfortable.”

Loki considered that for a minute. It sounded very stupid, but he supposed he could understand where Steve was coming from. Finally, he said, “My seidr would not protect me from you primarily because you _do_ make me feel safe.” Loki motioned at the small cabin they both inhabited, at the clearing outside and the woods beyond. “I do not recall telling you this, but tradition with Aesir wedding bonds is not fast. It can take decades for a couple to choose their bonds, decades more to decide upon a date or a time or an officiant.” Loki paused, trying to formulate his thoughts. “I do not feel pressed to wait. I already know that you have no incentive to harm me, that regardless of knowing you for what feels like a short amount of time, you have been a part of my soul for far longer than that. That is all that is important to me.” Loki trailed off. 

Steve leaned back against the counter and stopped himself from crossing his arms over his chest. Instead, he clutched the edge of the counter in his hands and turned his full attention to Loki. “Even like this? Even when you don’t know me?”

“But I do know you.” Loki motioned to the cabin and the land outside. “This was the only safe space I had left. I still brought you here.” Steve ducked his chin. “Again, I feel like you consider yourself capable of _making_ me do anything. But, I know you. I know you well enough to be sure in my place in marrying you. You really would consider Loki of Asgard such a fool that he would marry someone he does not know? Does not trust?”

Steve nodded, ran a hand through his hair. “Alright,” he said slowly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You still want to marry me?”

Loki smiled at him. “More than the day before.” He pushed to his feet and strutted over to Steve, crowded him up against the counter, Steve’s hands coming to land on his hips. “Do you wish to marry me, Captain?”

“More than I’ve wanted anything,” Steve told him, and leaned up for a kiss.

Loki smiled against his mouth, slid his hands over Steve’s chest. Regretfully, he pulled away just a few moments later. “I have more arrangements to make,” he said slowly, eyes slipping down Steve’s naked torso, down past his hips, and Loki’s knees trembled.

Steve smiled slowly. “I’m sure they won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late.”

Loki shook his head, stepped back. “I will give you something to look forward to when I return.” He turned back to the bed and seidr slipped over him, cleaning his skin and the inside of his mouth and his hair, and then Loki summoned a few articles of clothing, dressing himself quickly. He had decided to wear a dark red high-collared tunic that covered the back of his hands with crimson decorative stitching, and trim scaled black leggings over black flats. He reaffirmed the Aesir glamour over his skin and used seidr to paint his nails red as he donned a few heavy gold rings.

Loki hummed as he smoothed down his clothes and gathered his seidr to walk through the dimensions, but he caught Steve’s gentle, loving gaze.

“That’s the first time you’ve made that sound since you lost your memory,” Steve told him, reaching out to brush his fingers over Loki’s cheek. “I love you,” Steve told him softly. 

Loki inclined his head and disappeared.

He was going to have to say that in return soon. Loki shook the thought off and glanced around the room before taking a seat, crossing his legs and clasping his hands in his lap.

Tony Stark came in a few minutes later, attention focused on the tablet in his hands, and he jumped and nearly threw the tablet, swearing when he saw Loki. Loki smirked at him and waved for Tony to sit down at his own desk. Tony rolled his eyes but sat, dropping the tablet onto his desk.

“How’d you find this office? Almost no one thinks I have an office, let alone even knows where it is.”

Loki smiled without showing any of his teeth. “I know things,” he said simply.

“That’s great. Real great. Now, why are you here, Blue Dahlia?”

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. “I have one more favor to ask you.”

Tony grimaced. “Does Steve know about this?”

“He has some idea, but I have not explicitly told him.”

“You planning on it?”

Loki shrugged one shoulder. “We are due to be married in two weeks. I have no reason to.”

Tony nodded. “So, one last thing? Then I’m done?”

“For now.”

Tony bared his teeth and shook his head. “No,” he decided. “Either I’m done or I tell Steve.”

Loki motioned for Tony to pull out his phone. “Call him, then. I would enjoy the look on his face when he learned that you worked with Power Enterprises.”

“I didn’t know they were HYDRA!” Tony threw up his hands. “I’m trying to redeem myself here, Loki, and I can’t do that if you keep blackmailing me.”

“I’m prepared to return all of the information I have,” Loki offered. “I have no use for it now that I know you were not working with Thor. In the way I had assumed, anyway.”

Tony rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine. Who else read through all that? You said Wilson went with you, right?”

“Yes, but he barely looked at anything.” Loki tossed his hair over his shoulder and smoothed it down with the tips of his fingers. 

“Clint?”

Loki’s mouth turned down. “He knows what I know.”

“Is he gonna talk to anyone?”

“Doubtfully.”

Tony looked for Loki to say more but Loki was suddenly distracted with running his thumb over the scaled material of his pants. Tony rolled his eyes. “Fine. Okay, how would you return it? Didn’t you say you just copied my files?”

Loki considered that. “I could transfer the information I have onto a thumb drive,” he offered blandly. “It would give you a physical item to prove my word.”

“I’ll take it,” Tony decided with a sigh. “Better than nothin’, I guess.”

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. “I would recommend not using it as your own blackmail against me,” he said slowly, “as I can assure you it would go poorly.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Whatever. What do you need me for this time? I’m not doing another press conference.”

“It wasn’t even a good press conference,” Loki replied. “And my request was only that you announce your return and take a modicum of responsibility for your actions. You could’ve sent a Tweet.”

“I hate that you know what Twitter is,” Tony grumbled.

“This time, however, I wish for something simple.” Loki sighed. “Steve wishes for you to be at our wedding.”

“That’s it?”

Loki smiled. “Well, of course, we would expect a gift.”

Tony sat back in his chair and rubbed his hands through his hair and stared up at the ceiling. “I obviously can’t say no, right? Because if Steve asked, I’d be busy that day. But if you’re asking—”

“I do not want the miscommunication that I am _asking_ anything, Stark.”

“Right. Freaky god from another planet is demanding I be at his wedding to make Captain America happy.” Tony sighed. “Fine, whatever. When is it?”

“Two weeks.”

“In Asgard, I’m assuming?”

Loki smiled, all sharp teeth. “Oh, of course.”

“Fine.” Tony scratched his goatee and then gave Loki a shrewd look. “How’d he ask you? Why not just ask me himself?”

Loki continued to smile. “Friends are very important to Steve. Even as an enemy, even with my own personal distaste of you, he still holds you in high regard. Perhaps because of your father, but you are important to him.”

Tony thought about that. “Fine,” he sighed. “I guess if I was getting married, I’d want him at my wedding too. I’m not gonna be a groomsman or anything, though.”

Loki shrugged one shoulder. “Oh, you won’t need to be there for long,” he told Tony, lying for the Hel of it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in seclusion, anyway? That’s what I heard through the grapevine.”

Loki spread his hands out over his thighs and delicately cleared his throat. “There are certain...arrangements that is customary for an Aesir’s parents to make,” he said finally. “If there are no parents, it falls to the Aesir.”

Tony didn’t know what to say to that. Loki frowned to himself and then pushed to his feet, and after inclining his head, he disappeared.

* * *

As a living being, Loki was not allowed in Hel. That had never stopped him, of course, but given that he was going to be requesting a favor from the Queen, he waited outside of the gates, hands clasped behind his back, a monstrous dead wolf floating behind him. He was wearing traditional Aesir formal wear, with heavy gold pauldrons supporting a long, flowing green cloak, and black and green leather criss-crossing his chest and down his arms. He had gold vambraces that covered the back of his hands and his legs were covered in heavy dragonscale leather, and he wore heavy black boots that went up to his knees. He had thin gold rings on a few of his fingers and a heavy ruby necklace that sat in the hollow of his throat. It was all very heavy and was the only thing that would give the correct message to Hela.

All he was missing was Clint, but he wasn’t allowing himself to think about that.

He’d forgone his traditional horned helm, but he was reconsidering that decision when the gate doors creaked open. Hela stood by herself, besides a lone guardsman that had Loki spinning on his heel and walking away.

“Wait,” Hela called after him, her voice sounding like a corpse rising from the grave.

He did not pause, fisting his hands to hide the shakes.

“I have come to bargain!”

Loki stopped, eyes narrowing, mouth pinching, and he waited.

“I have a wedding present.”

“If the present is the soul of my dead brother then I will consider it a slight against myself and Asgard and you will never know peace.”

She laughed. “I am Queen of Hel. Peace is not my friend. Come back, brother. Bring me my wolf and we will broker a deal.” Hela conjured chairs for both of them, hers on the inside of Hel, Loki’s outside, and she took a seat. Loki turned back to her and glanced over his brother for the first time in over a year. “How fares your human?” Loki ignored the question and Hela smiled again.

Thor looked the same as he had when Loki had killed him. Loki looked at him and slowly sat in the seat Hela had conjured. She was still wearing that same black bodysuit that looked more like a second skin than clothes, and she’d disappeared her stag-like crown into long black hair. 

“You are walking a very fine line here,” Loki told her, his voice slow and careful. “It would be very unwise to alienate me, as I can assume you are aware.”

Hela smiled, her teeth stained with blood. “I have no intent to harm you, Loki. I could have already done anything I wished once you approached my gates.” Loki raised an eyebrow at her. She waved a hand and Thor stepped forward, still staring ahead with wide, sightless eyes. “I offer you a soul for a soul.”

“Thor for Fenrir?”

She nodded.

“You believe I wish for Thor to return to me? Do you not remember that I killed him?”

Hela held out a hand and a small green vial appeared in her palm. Loki’s eyes widened. “A wedding present,” she said, and floated the vial over. Loki caught it in his fingers and uncorked the vial, and Thor vanished, sucked into the small container. Loki quickly corked the vial back up and held it up. 

“My duty here was to bring you Fenrir in exchange for your army when Thanos comes to Midgard.”

Hela tapped black-tipped fingers on her chin as she thought. “A poor trade,” she finally said, shaking her head. “I give you an army, you bring me a wolf?”

“I can take it back to Asgard and Fenrir can continue to rot in Asgard’s vaults,” Loki offered up, and her black eyes narrowed. “If there is nothing else you wish for, then there is nothing that I or Asgard can give you.” He motioned to Hel behind them. “You already have achieved your destiny. What else can a Queen wish for?”

She smiled at that, crossed her legs. “I like collections, you know,” she told him. “I have all of Jotunheim’s army that was destroyed in Odin’s war. All of Thanos’s Children. All of the late Dwarven Army of Nidavellir. There was a secret archery faction of Vanaheim that were all killed in an earthquake. But do you know what I am missing? The very last Valkyrie. I have all of those, except for one.” Loki’s eyebrows raised of their own volition. “You bring me her, and you will have my army.”

“And you wish for the wolf as a token of my good-will, I assume?” Loki drawled, and Hela smiled again, her teeth stained red against the stark white of her skin. 

“Oh, of course.”

Loki nodded, mind racing. “Take your wolf, then,” he decided, and waved his hand at Fenrir. The wolf’s head lifted and his eyes blinked and he dropped to his feet, shaking his body. Hela called his name and the wolf walked over to her and pushed his massive head in her lap. Fenrir was nearly as tall as the gates themselves, towering over both of them as they simultaneously pushed to their feet. Hela inclined her head to Loki and then her and the wolf turned back to Hela, gate creaking shut behind them.

Loki turned back to the long, cold journey out of Hel, sliding Thor’s soul into a pocket dimension, feeling disgusted by even touching the vial. Coming into Hel was easy, but there were only two ways out, even with the Tesseract. He took the common way, unwilling to let Hela know he knew of the secret route.

The path to the gates of Hel slowly began to fall away, leaving only a long, thin path that stretched into the darkness. Loki continued to walk along it, not looking down into the darkness below, ignoring the low roar that began to build up. There was a pit opening up beneath his feet filled with all of his greatest fears, filled with the entirety of Hel, filled with Thor reaching out for him, rough fingers sliding down Loki’s side, filled with a dark room with no escape.

If he did not look, it could not hurt him.

“Brother,” Thor’s voice came, and Loki shuddered. “I knew you would return to me.”

He walked on, the air growing ever colder.

Thor faded away, rough fingers brushing over the back of Loki’s neck, that same imprint of him echoing on Loki’s soul. Next came Odin, his deep voice echoing through Hel. Loki walked on.

“Your birthright was to die,” Odin snarled, but Loki did not stumble.

Next came Steve, walking along side Loki, clad in his Captain America uniform, heavy boots echoing off the invisible path beneath his feet. He hefted his shield. Loki could not bear to look at him. They walked next to each other for a long time before Steve said, “If all I ever wanted was to fight, why did you make me stop?”

With that, Steve disappeared, and with him, the light. The darkness crept in, but Loki did not pause. If he kept on the same path without hesitation, Hel would let him leave. He could not deviate or look away from the end of the path; if he did, the gates would open and he would be taken into Hel. He had done this before and he would do it again.

He walked in darkness for a very long time. 

There began a slow rise of light on the horizon, but Loki did not allow himself to be grateful for it. The air around him began to slowly heat as the sun began to rise, as the space around the path turned to a sprawling meadow, wildlife in the distance, wildflowers springing up in his footsteps. The path began to disappear as he walked through it, the grass lengthening in front of him, becoming a tangle and unable to pass through it. But Loki’s steps did not shorten and he did not hesitate, and the grass bent for him.

The grass was slowly replaced by seawater, the air in the room becoming heavy and thick with salt, water sloshing up against his boots. But, again, even as the water came up to his knees, and then to his thighs, and then to his hips, he did not hesitate.

Almost as if frustrated, the water swept away quickly, leaving Loki again in the dark, walking over a thin path suspended over nothing.

“You left me back there,” Clint’s voice came, and for the first time, Loki almost stumbled. But he was stronger than he remembered being, and continued to walk. “You have to come back. You can’t leave me alone,” Clint begged. “You promised me I wouldn’t be alone.”

When Loki did not respond, the path began to widen, and the scent in the air around him changed, and suddenly, he was on the Bifrost, walking into the Observatory. There was no path stretching off into the darkness, and Loki turned to Heimdall, the Observer regarding him with solemn gold eyes.

“Where is the Valkyrie?” Loki asked.

“She resides with Natasha,” Heimdall replied in a low rumble. “They slumber together.”

Loki nodded. “Take me home,” he decided, and Heimdall inclined his head, sliding Hofund into the Bifrost to activate it, and with a flash of rainbow light, Loki was standing in his rooms in Clint’s house. He quickly disrobed, pulling on an old shirt of Steve’s and loose green leggings, and then he gingerly pulled Thor’s soul out of his pocket dimension and grimaced at it.

Loki set the soul down on the coffee table and moved into his bedroom, leaning on the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest. He frowned at the lump in his bed.

“You’re going to have to wake up now,” he said, and with a twirl of seidr and a groan, Clint sat up, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. 

“Can’t you put me into another coma?” Clint grumped. “Feel like I haven’t slept in a year.”

“I have need of you,” Loki informed him, turning back to his living room. “Come with me.”

Clint groaned and rolled off the bed, ignoring his nakedness as he grabbed his hearing aids and dragged himself into the living room and up onto the couch next to Loki, who dragged a blanket over him and then pointedly motioned to the small green vial on the coffee table.

Clint regarded it, feeling kind of stupid at not immediately knowing what it was. Loki growled under his breath and conjured up a cup of coffee for Clint to guzzle down, and then the archer blinked a few times and gaped at the green vial. “She gave you Thor’s soul? That was her whole bargaining chip.”

Loki nodded at that. “I want you to eat him.”

“Huh.” Clint slumped down and kicked his feet up onto the arm of the couch, head in Loki’s lap. He thought about that. “I mean, I will. It’s whatever. But huh.” He tipped his head back to look up at Loki. “How do you want me to do it? Just slurp it down and hope it doesn’t kill me?”

Loki smiled at him, pet his fingers through Clint’s hair. “I was thinking a hard candy,” he mused.

“You want to see me suck Thor off?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “No,” he said softly. “I want to see you crush him.”

Clint grinned. “I can do that.”

* * *

* * *

Steve groaned as he woke up. “Why’s Clint here?” he grumbled. “I thought seclusion meant just us.” 

Steve patted Clint on the head and he looked up from in between them in the tiny bed in the cabin. “Cap, hey,” Clint greeted around a yawn, voice too loud. 

Loki angrily poked his head out from underneath the covers, hair mussed. “Why are we awake?” he growled. _Clint, I was comfortable._

Clint rolled his eyes and curled back down, forcing Steve to cuddle with him again. Steve just sighed and wrapped his arm back around Clint’s waist and snuggled back into the archer. Loki and Clint had their foreheads pressed together, sharing air, and Loki slid a hand over Clint’s side to intertwine his fingers with Steve’s. Clint nestled back into Steve and reached up to pull the blankets back up over the three of them.

They woke up again a couple hours later, Clint jerking awake, tears streaming down his face. Loki was awake only a moment later, distangling his hand from Steve’s to gently cradle Clint’s face. _You’re alright,_ he murmured, ignoring the way Clint’s nails clawed at his chest. _You’re in the right timeline. You’re with me. You’re never leaving my side again._

_I don’t know where I am—_

_This is my cabin where Bucky and I hid from Thor, where Steve and I are currently in seclusion. You have spent too much time in memories. Focus on me._

Clint took in a few deep breaths and then sat up. “Steve?” he said slowly, and Steve sat up next to him, knocking his shoulder into Clint’s, handing him his hearing aids.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked kindly. “Where have you been lately?”

Loki slid past them, seidr sliding over the three of them that cleaned them and removed any need for the bathroom. A tendril of seidr began making tea in the small kitchen while Loki conjured up an armchair and then he got dressed in one of Steve’s shirts and a pair of short shorts and then he curled up in his armchair. Clint leaned heavily into Steve’s side with a depressed sigh.

“I’ve been going through past time loops,” Clint said. “It keeps messing me up.”

“I told him he’s not allowed to do it anymore,” Loki piped up, a cup of tea floating over to him.

Steve frowned at the two of them. “I thought he was doing it to help us defeat Thanos. But we don’t...if it’s hurting you, Clint, you have to stop.”

“But if I’m the only way we can get an edge on Thanos, I have to keep going,” Clint argued, but Steve shook his head.

“You had a complete mental breakdown where you did not recognize your own wife,” Loki pointed out, taking a sip of his tea. “Or when you thought that _I_ would not drop everything to come assist you. _Or_ when you lost enough memories that you did not recognize your own home.”

Clint straightened up and glowered at Loki. _I found out a timeline where Nat killed herself to get the Soul Stone and I threw up over it and you called me pathetic._

_You were being pathetic,_ Loki reminded him. _But I’ll apologize if it makes you feel better._

Clint rolled his eyes and held out his hand, a cup of tea zooming off the counter into his palm.

“Since when have you been able to do that?”

“Uhh…” Clint grimaced. “Once a body is over 50% seidr, you can utilize it in all sorts of fun ways. For instance,” he held out his hand and green sparkles reformed it into a dragon’s clawed hand, all scaled and with long, sharp claws, and then a moment later, Clint’s hand was back to normal. “I can do shit like that. I can’t hold it for long, not yet, but I’m figuring it out.”

“Did you know this was going to happen?” Steve asked Loki, who raised an eyebrow at him.

“Our situation is unprecedented,” Loki replied, motioning vaguely between himself and Clint. “Perhaps the process would’ve been slower or aborted if I had not fixed that...aberration in his side.” Clint leaned over and Steve looked down to see a bright green slash in Clint’s side where the Regeneration Cradle had originally fixed him and Loki had fixed the work of the Cradle. “I believe it was inevitable, but,” here, Loki shrugged, and was apparently finished speaking on the topic.

Steve just sighed and got out of bed, quickly dressing in the same clothes he’d been wearing for the past three weeks—Captain America sweatpants and a green shirt with Loki’s helm emblazoned over the chest in gold—and walked over to start the coffee maker. He leaned back against the kitchen counter and looked between the two of them.

“You two are hiding something from me,” he finally decided. “What is it?”

Loki sighed into his tea. “Hela wants something in exchange for her armies in the battle against Thanos.”

Steve pulled out two mugs for the coffee. “What is it?” he repeated.

“Valkyrie,” Clint told him, and Steve’s shoulders stiffened, the Captain swinging his head around to stare at him. “Also, she gave Loki a wedding present.”

Loki held out the small green vial. “A soul,” he said, and Steve just poured two cups of coffee, walking over to the bed to give one of them to Clint, who groaned in appreciation and dropped the cup of tea to the floor and cradled the mug of coffee in his hands. “More precisely, Thor’s soul.”

“She gave you Thor?”

“Not precisely. When an Aesir dies, their body is—”

Steve held up a hand, sitting next to Clint on the bed. “Go back to Valkyrie. We’ll figure out this soul thing later.” He shot the green vial a faintly disgusted look and shook his head. “Put that away. So, Hela wants Valkyrie? Well, we obviously can’t do that. So what are the other options? What else does she want?”

“She is patient enough to wait for anything else,” Loki replied. “She is the Queen of Death. She can wait for anything. All she asked for was Valkyrie.”

“We don’t trade lives,” Steve reminded him. “Even one life for an entire army. Find something else.”

“It’s not that easy,” Clint piped up. “She’s not going to _want_ anything else. The entire point is that it's an impossible decision.”

“If we win, she gets Thanos,” Steve said, thinking out loud. “Is he enough of a prize?”

“No.” Loki shook his head. “Either we give Hela the Valkyrie or we do not have her armies. It is an unwinnable battle without her armies; ergo, we give Hela what she wants.”

“No,” Steve said firmly, and Loki stiffened. “Think of something else. Everyone wants _something._”

“Why’d she give you his soul?” Clint mused out loud, rubbing at his chin. “She said it was a soul for a soul, but Fenrir wasn’t a soul. He was an entire wolf, body _and_ soul. So she had to mean something else.” They thought about it while Clint slurped noisily at his coffee and then got up to go refill the cup. Steve pointed to the small clothes chest at the end of the bed and told the archer to dress himself. 

Clint rolled his eyes and dug around in the chest until he pulled out a pair of purple shorts and a purple shirt, and pulled both of them on before finally refilling his coffee cup. He jumped up onto the kitchen counter, barely stopping from making a comment about Loki looking like he had steam coming out of his ears. 

“She wanted Thor in return for bringing her armies to the battle against him,” Loki remembered. “She also wanted Thanos’s Children, but she mostly wanted Thor’s soul. He ran from her through timelines and killed me thousands of times—”

“She said he was a wedding present,” Clint interrupted, eyes lighting up. “Loki, she was trying to be _nice_. Thor killed you however many times, doing irreparable damage to your soul, and Hela gave you _his_ soul in return.”

“Huh,” Steve said, thinking about that. “So she basically is saying that Thor, what, did whatever he wanted to your soul for however long and this is your chance at revenge?”

Loki considered that. Finally, he just frowned. “I have no more desire for revenge,” he said carefully, not entirely certain if it was a lie. “Thor is dead and I am not. He can never raise a hand to me, he can never use me for his own gain, he can never collar me or _own_ me again. That is enough.”

“What are you going to do with his soul, then?”

“Oh, I’m gonna eat it,” Clint offered up. Steve set his coffee cup on the floor and put his head in his hands. “Loki’s going to kind of melt it down into a rock candy kind of concoction and then I’m going to eat it.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but is that cannibalism?” Steve asked, voice muffled by his palms. “I can’t condone cannibalism.”

“Kinda sexy though, if you think about it,” Clint commented, and Steve groaned. “I don’t think it’s cannibalism because he’s not alive. Technically no body, either, so no meat. And I’m technically Asgardian now, but not Aesir like Thor was, and isn’t cannibalism eating your own species?”

“I’m going back to bed,” Steve decided. “How about this: cannibalism or no, I’m not having any part of it. You two figure it out, neither of you tells me what you’re doing, and I don’t ever have to think about this ever again.”

“I’ve heard souls are surprisingly sweet,” Loki remarked, and Steve just groaned and clambered back into bed, pulling the blankets up over his head. “It’s almost 10am.”

“I don’t care what time it is,” Steve grumbled. “I’m not dealing with this.”

“Do you think your actions while you’re alive make your soul taste a certain way?”

“Oh my god,” Steve groaned, throwing the blankets off him and pointing outside. “Go outside! If you _insist_ on talking about how souls taste, do it away from me!”

Clint and Loki simultaneously rolled their eyes and Clint slid off the counter, grabbing the coffee pot, as Loki pushed to his feet and the two of them left the small cabin. 

“Bet Thor’s soul tastes like shit,” Clint said right as the door slammed shut behind them. 

Steve pressed his face into the pillow and resisted the urge to scream. 

Outside, Clint and Loki decided to go on a walk, Loki waiting until they were far enough away from the cabin to call for Heimdall. “Tell the Valkyrie that I summon her,” Loki told Heimdall, and then considered what they’d been talking about in the cabin. “How unethical would it be to feed Steve some of Thor’s soul?”

“Didn’t you two just have a talk about consent? The guy’s obviously grossed out by it. I’ll eat his soul, I don’t care, but probably not good to do that to Steve, even if he never found out.”

Loki considered that and finally nodded. “You’re probably right,” he decided, and Clint rolled his eyes. “Are you feeling well enough for a journey?”

Clint took stock of himself and then nodded. “Nothing too strenuous,” he decided, “and I’m gonna sleep like the dead after, but yeah.”

Loki pulled out the Tesseract and carelessly tossed it over. Clint caught it easily. “Go to Balder. Inform him of Hela’s request. I will speak to Brunnhilde and then we will...reconvene.” Clint nodded and Loki sighed. “I had hoped my seclusion would be less stressful,” he admitted, “but I suppose I should have know better.”

“You two going on a honeymoon?”

“The moon?” Loki tipped his face to the sky. “Steve would enjoy a trip to the moon?”

“No, you idiot. Honeymoon. Newlyweds usually go on vacations together after they get married. It’s like seclusion but afterwards. And there’s other people.”

“Sounds pointless.” Loki turned his head to look at Clint. “Did you go on a honeymoon?”

“Naw, not really. We had a really cheap wedding and couldn’t really afford much, so we found a fancy hotel and got a room there for the night. Then we got a cheap bottle of champagne and ordered pizza and fucked like three times. It was great.”

Loki looked faintly disgusted but contemplative. “Is that what Steve would want?”

“How the hell would I know?”

Loki thumped him on the back of the head then slid his hand down to cradle the back of Clint’s neck. Clint leaned into Loki’s side and the two of them waited in comfortable silence before the Bifrost opened and out walked Valkyrie. 

Clint looked between the two of them and then held up the Tesseract. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he said, and activated it, landing in the Observatory. He waved to Heimdall and opened a pocket dimension to pull out his bow and quiver. 

“You may be afforded some leniency,” Heimdall started, sounding amused, “because of your position and your master, but even Balder would take offense at your choice of dress.”

Clint swore and looked down. He’d forgotten he was wearing a threadbare purple t-shirt and purple booty shorts. Heimdall wasn’t wrong and Clint was grateful for the Aesir saying something, but it would’ve been funny. He looked in his pocket dimension again and sighed in relief at seeing a uniform t-shirt and a pair of tactical pants. Heimdall pointedly turned away and Clint gave him a grateful wave before stripping down and changing. He didn’t have another pair of boots but he could run to Loki’s old rooms and steal a pair of his. 

Clint slid his bow over his arm and his quiver over his back and put his clothes and the Tesseract back into the pocket dimension and zipped it shut. He gave Heimdall a jaunty wave goodbye and strolled off to the palace.

* * *

Valkyrie gave Loki a guarded look once Clint vanished. The Prince raised an eyebrow at her and she hid her grimace and gave him a slight bow. Loki smirked. “Oh, that isn’t necessary,” he said snidely, and motioned for her to walk with him. “I have a request of you.”

“Request? The Prince does not order his constituents?”

Loki smiled thinly at her. “My fiance would be thoroughly displeased with me if I ordered you to lay down your life, Valkyrie,” he said, and turned away from her to walk through the woods.

“You asked me here to die?” Valkyrie asked in shock. “Does the King know of this?”

“Where do you think Clint went?” Loki replied, stepping out into the clearing in front of his cabin, clasping his hands behind his back and looking up to the sky. “It is a deal offered by Hela, Queen of Hel. She will give her undead army to us if she is given you.”

Valkyrie stopped next to him, hands fisted next to her sides, glaring furiously up at him. She’d taken well to Midgard, lost that haunted, gaunt look she’d been carrying when Balder had first found her and brought her back to Asgard. “I...I can’t,” she said slowly. “I made a life here.” Her eyebrows drew together. “You can’t ask me to do this.”

“I’m not,” Loki told her. “This is solely your decision. I am giving you the option to help us win the war by laying down your life. We have the armies of Asgard and the Nine Realms. Wakanda will come to our aid.”

“We can win with that,” Valkyrie said firmly, turning her gaze to the cabin, where Steve was seen moving through the windows.

“Can we?” Loki asked mildly. “No one can make this decision for you. I will not order you, and I cannot imagine Balder will either. I am merely here to inform you that there is the option.”

The cabin door opened and Steve stepped out onto the porch, still wearing the same clothes. He grimaced at seeing them but gave them an awkward wave and came down the porch stairs and across the clearing to Loki’s side. He nodded to Valkyrie and she nodded back. Loki slid his hand into Steve’s elbow and Steve pressed a kiss to Loki’s cheek. Valkyrie rolled her eyes at them.

“Like a centuries married couple already,” she muttered. “Captain, are you aware of this? The...agreement?”

Steve nodded and frowned. “I don’t agree with it,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t think there’s a decision here,” he told her. “The answer is no. We can win without Hela’s armies.”

Loki glowered at the both of them. “Are both of you unaware of the vastness of her armies? She commands all of the undead.”

“How many are Thanos’s army?”

Valkyrie shook her head. “Thousands upon thousands. Too many to number. His greatest strength is his armies.”

“Which is why the army of the undead is invaluable,” Loki pointed out. Valkyrie grimaced and then sighed. “It can only be your decision.” 

“Fucking Hela,” Valkyrie hissed. “She killed all of my sisters and my comrades and now she wants to take me too.” She turned away and paced across the meadow.

Loki turned his head and looked at the place where Clint stepped through with the Tesseract a moment later. Balder came through on the Bifrost a second after, looking frustrated over his great red beard. Loki moved away from Steve to talk to Clint, who was tossing the Tesseract up into the air and catching it.

“I need Natasha,” Valkyrie finally announced, sounding wrecked. She turned to Balder, who nodded, and called for Heimdall.

It took a few minutes of Clint throwing the Tesseract around until Balder finally sighed at him and shook his head. “Only you would treat such a priceless relic as a toy. That houses an Infinity Stone, little Clint.”

Loki suddenly smiled and held out his hand. Clint tossed the Tesseract over and the two of them had a silent conversation for a few minutes while the Bifrost brought in Natasha. Clint waved to her and then turned his attention back to Loki, suddenly looking vaguely nauseous. Loki herded him towards the cabin and Steve gave them a concerned look but greeted Natasha. 

Natasha glanced over all of them and then Valkyrie called her name, and they met in the middle.

“Steve,” Loki called, and he turned towards them. Clint was sitting on the porch steps, head in between his knees. “Do come here, if you would.”

Steve glanced over Balder and Natasha and Valkyrie and then went. He sat next to Clint on the steps and knocked their shoulders together. “What’s up?”

Clint didn’t say anything.

“Clint spent some time in alternate timelines,” Loki said slowly. “Or past time loops. However you wish to look at it, he saw other lives. In one—”

“More than one,” Clint interrupted.

“In multiple lives, Natasha gave her life for the Soul Stone,” Loki finished. Steve grimaced.

“An impossible decision,” Steve echoed, watching as Balder stepped up to Valkyrie to talk to her. The King shook his head and put one massive hand on her shoulder. “How does receiving the Soul Stone work?”

“The Keeper says that you have to give up something you love,” Clint rasped. “Someone, I guess. Nat killed herself so I could get the Soul Stone.”

Steve flinched; he couldn’t help it. “So she made the decision that Valkyrie has to make,” he said, shaking his head. Clint’s shoulders shuddered. “We know what Nat is going to tell her to do.”

Loki’s mouth thinned but he nodded. He turned back to look at them, looked at the heart-broken look on Balder’s face, the steeliness in Natasha’s gaze, and very slowly, he smiled again. “I was thinking,” he started, and Clint groaned. Loki rolled his eyes. “There are very few things that one such as Hela wants. Death receives all, after all. However, there are few things that do not die.” Loki held up the Tesseract. 

“Hold up,” Steve said. “You can’t give her the Tesseract.”

“We’re not,” Clint told him, and he held out something that looked remarkably similar to the Tesseract. Steve frowned at it. “It’s called the Cosmic Cube. I took it from Asgard’s vaults when—wait. No, Loki took it. When he went to go get Fenrir.”

“It was just _sitting_ there,” Loki groused. “How could I not take it?”

Steve just shook his head. “Alright,” he sighed. “What does it do?”

“It’s basically a shittier Tesseract,” Clint informed him. “They’re kind of similar to Norn Stones, which we still have. We gave Hjalmar the Stones that Thor had enchanted and changed. So it can change certain aspects of reality, but not like the Reality Stone. It can be used as a transport device, like the Tesseract. I don’t think it can manipulate time at all.” Loki nodded. “The biggest thing it can’t do is change souls. Like, at all. So it’s perfect for Hela.”

“Wouldn’t she want something that can change souls?”

“Hel isn’t filled with souls,” Loki informed him. “It is filled with the dead. It is a very small distinction, but it is an important one. Souls are caught in the gates of Hel and then are used in the walls keeping the dead inside.”

“That’s awful.”

Loki shrugged. “It is a very particular type of torture,” he replied thoughtfully. “Your own soul imprisons you.”

“How did she get Thor’s soul then?” Steve queried. Loki grimaced.

“She pulled it from the gates and gave it to me. I assume that is why she wanted to meet there.” A thoughtful look crossed Loki’s face and he summoned the soul vial, holding his palm open for it. It appeared in his hand and Loki uncorked it. Thor’s soul bubbled out to the ground and slowly formed into a shimmering mirage that almost looked like Thor. Thor lifted his hands and looked at them, the rainbow color of his soul catching the sunlight.

“How did you come by a soul?” Balder asked, walking over, eyes nearly bulging out of his head when he recognized him. “Loki, I hope you never fail to surprise me.”

“Hela said a soul for a soul,” Clint spoke up. “Couldn’t we...if Valkyrie wants…”

“Are you saying the Soul Stone?” Loki asked.

“I mean, if she’s gonna die anyways,” Clint shrugged. Loki looked thoughtful while Steve shook his head at the both of them and pushed to his feet.

“I feel like it has to be said that I’m still against all of this,” Steve told everyone, and then he walked across the clearing to Valkyrie and Natasha.

Balder sighed at the lot of them. “It seems that being King has far more difficult decisions than I was expecting,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Has she made a decision?” Clint asked softly.

“I told her it was a decision no one could make for her,” Balder told him, looking across the clearing to where all three of their backs were towards them. Loki was walking around Thor’s soul, hands behind his back, giving him a critical look. “I made it very clear to her that no matter the outcome, no one could would hold her at fault. It is a truly impossible choice.”

Clint nodded and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “They’re getting married in a week,” he said quietly to Balder. “This isn’t the kind of shit anyone should have to be dealing with a week before their wedding.”

Balder heavily sat next to Clint and picked up the Cosmic Cube from where Clint had dropped it onto one of the porch stairs. Balder looked at it, held it up to the light. “Would she take this?”

“She’s your sister, man.”

Balder laughed and slapped Clint on the back. “So she is! I will call for her and see if she will take the Cube in return for her armies.”

Clint thought about it, thought about what he knew about Hela, thought about the look on her face while Loki had talked to her, the way she’d asked about him. “No,” he decided. “I’ll go to Hel. I’ll talk to her.”

“Pardon?” Loki called over, shaking his head. “You will do no such thing.” He pulled Thor’s soul back into the green vial and corked it, walking over and glaring at Clint. “You’re not going to Hel.”

“I’m vetoing your veto,” Clint said, and pushed to his feet. “I’ll go talk to her.”

Loki grabbed Clint’s arm and dragged him inside the cabin, pushing him to the bed. _You’ll do no such thing_, he snarled. _It is not safe.___

_I’ll be fine._

_You have nothing to prove,_ Loki argued. _You are not weak. You can’t...you can’t do this to me._

_Do this to you?_ Clint shot back. _You went to Hel without saying anything to me. I was in a coma, you idiot. I had to lay there and witness everything that Hel did to you to try and make you turn back. I couldn’t even wake up because you’d sent me under._

“Clint,” Loki said out loud, desperately. “I can...whatever Hel does to me, I can walk past it. You cannot. I saw what seeing her death did to you.”

“Made me _pathetic,_” Clint hissed, dropping his head down, and Loki shook his head, going to his knees in front of Clint, resting his hands delicately on Clint’s knees.

“No,” Loki murmured. “I am so dreadfully sorry for saying that to you. It was cruel. I swore to take care of you and I did not do that. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. But I do not wish to see you suffer in how Hela would cause you to suffer.”

Clint nodded and leaned forward to press his forehead to Loki’s, the two of them both closing their eyes. “I’m sorry,” Clint said, and he held out his hand. The Cosmic Cube shimmered and changed to the Tesseract, and a moment later, Clint was gone.

Loki roared, surging to his feet, gathering seidr in his hands to follow Clint to Hel, but a moment later, the cabin door slammed open and Steve rushed in, followed a moment later by Balder, Natasha and Valkyrie coming up the porch stairs.

"He has gone to her," Loki hissed out, but before he could do anything, Steve grabbed his hands and stopped him.

"And you will not," Steve ordered of him, Loki baring his teeth at him for a moment before retracting his seidr and meeting Steve's gaze. "He'll come back."

Balder grimaced uncomfortably and herded Valkyrie and Natasha back out of the cabin, shutting the door behind them. The three of them awkwardly looked at each other and Valkyrie finally said, “Kinda codependent, those two.”

Balder snorted and slapped her on the back. “I will return for your decision in three days,” he announced. Valkyrie and Natasha looked at each other and nodded. “Valkyrie,” Balder said slowly, uncomfortably, “I would not wish this choice on anyone, but you are strong enough to make it.” He patted the top of her head with one massive hand. “Good luck.” He strode out into the middle of the clearing and called for Heimdall, the Bifrost carrying him away a moment later.

Natasha’s mouth turned down. “You want to go home?”

Valkyrie nodded and took her hand. They went out to the clearing and the Bifrost took them home.

In the cabin, Loki paced the length of it, Steve sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, watching with a grimace as Loki could not stop his hands from shaking as he argued with himself. “He always feels as if he has something to prove,” Loki hissed, shaking his head. “I never thought it would go this far.”

“Clint has never felt good enough,” Steve finally said, shaking his head. “You know that. Hell, you _use_ that. But, Loki...he’s always going to do something if it means you don’t have to.”

“A soul for a soul,” Loki spat bitterly. “She knew what she was doing. That _witch._”

Steve just sighed. It felt like it was the only thing he did nowadays. “I’m guessing we’re done with seclusion, then?”

Loki caught himself on the back of his armchair and stared sightlessly at the floor. “We’re to be _married_ in a week,” he breathed, voice cracking. “How am I meant to focus on our wedding with Clint in Hel?”

Steve pushed his hair off his forehead and rubbed his eyes. “We’ll figure it out,” he decided, trying to keep the tiredness out of his voice. “We always manage to figure it out.”

Loki went to his knees in front of Steve, looking on the verge of panic. “Help me,” he begged.

Steve nodded and gathered himself, pushing down his own worry and just the _exhaustion_, and he cradled Loki’s jaw in his hands. “Close your eyes,” he ordered. Loki’s eyes fluttered shut. “Take deep breaths. I want you to calm down. Your heart is racing.” Loki’s mouth fell open and he leaned heavily into Steve’s hand. “Don’t think about anything. Take a breath and push a thought out of your mind until there’s nothing left besides my voice. Focus on me.” Steve took in a few deep breaths of his own and slowly let them out. “There isn’t any room left in your head for anything other than me.”

“I’m yours,” Loki said with a sigh, and he leaned his body against Steve’s leg, nuzzling his face into Steve’s thigh. “The walk back from Hel can take a very long time,” he whispered. “He cannot look back or hesitate, or he will become hers.” He swallowed, let out a sigh. “I can’t give him up, Steve.”

“I know, love,” Steve assured him. “Clint’s strong. He won’t look back.”

* * *

Clint looked around. Huh. It was cold. The gates were bigger than he’d thought they would be, and the walls stretched as high and as far as he could see. He slid the Tesseract into his pocket and sat down on the ground. She’d come for him eventually. It wasn’t like Hela wouldn’t know he was waiting for her, wasn’t like she probably wasn’t expecting him.

So he sat on the ground and crossed his legs underneath himself and put his chin in his hand and dozed off.

Loki was panicking and being generally over-dramatic about the whole situation, but Steve would help him. Clint had to do this. Even if it went the way he thought it would, he had to do it. Hela was going to underestimate him anyway. They always did.

It was a good while later when the gates finally creaked open, taking a long while for Hela to walk out.

“Clinton Francis Barton,” she greeted with a slow smile. “Welcome home.”

Clint jumped to his feet and gave her an awkward wave. “Hela. Hey. Guess you know why I’m here.”

“You wish to trade your soul for my army. Instead of the Valkyrie.”

Clint held up a hand. “Not quite. I’m assuming that Brunnhilde is gonna let you take her. Both her and Nat are kind of like that. They do the self-sacrifice thing pretty well, especially for something as big as this. Brunnhilde especially. She knows just what we’re facing. I’m here to make a deal.”

“A deal?”

Clint opened his pocket dimension and pulled out the Cosmic Cube he’d stolen from Loki. “You take this, Valkyrie tosses herself off the ledge, we get the Soul Stone and you get her soul.”

Hela frowned at him.

“Or you get her body. It has to go somewhere, right? Even if the Soul Stone takes her soul, you still get her. Tada, collection complete.”

Hela considered him. “Why are you here brokering this transaction? Why not Loki? The King?”

“Because neither of them have any leverage against you.”

She smiled again, and this time, her teeth were slick with blood. Hela conjured two chairs, one inside Hel, one outside. Clint took the one outside, of course, and Hela slowly took her own seat, crossing her legs and clasping her hands in her lap. “I enjoy this,” she purred. “What leverage, Clint?”

Clint opened up his pocket dimension again and tipped the Cosmic Cube inside, pulling out his purple notebook. He paged through it, to one of the early timelines, soon after Life One. “Back then, before Thor really started changing things, the time loops went a lot similar to the first one. A few of those lives, once I figured out how, I went back to the beginning. I found something interesting, something that I talked to the time sorcerers at the Sanctum. They looked back, said the same thing happened.”

Clint smiled as Hela’s black-tipped fingers tightened on the arms of her chair.

“You intentionally spared Brunnhilde’s life. You’re in love with her.”

She glared at him. Clint grinned.

“You want her the same way Loki has me. But with, like, a sex thing. That’s why you brought me up.”

“This is your leverage?” Hela murmured, black lips curling down in a frown. “How do you expect to use it against me?”

“Well,” Clint replied with a shrug, “I doubt she’d kill herself to turn herself into your little pet. She’d kill herself to give us an army, but not because you want her. You don’t like Thanos, and you definitely don’t like what he’s been doing up there in your name. The whole Lady Death thing? It’s gross. We can both agree on that. So you want to stop him anyway. But a whole army against one Valkyrie?” Clint shook his head. Hela glowered at him. “People always underestimate me,” he said with a shrug. “But I always figure shit out. It’s my thing.”

Hela glared at him. “What’s to stop me from keeping you here?”

Clint shrugged. “You can, if you want.” He settled in deeper to the armchair. “I’d like to see Loki’s face and what he does to you when I don’t come back.” Hela’s mouth thinned. “Even you’re scared of him. You’ve had a good deal down here, even being exiled and all. Loki could tear all that shit down in a matter of minutes if he thought you were keeping me from him.”

“If you believe—”

“I figured out Hjalmar had created a soul bond in Loki,” Clint spoke over her. “I figured out what Frigga did to him. Both of them. I can promise you that if you’re going to hurt Loki, I’m going to ferret it out, and I’ll stop you. So, what do you say?”

“My armies for the Cosmic Cube is your final deal?” Hela mused. “All I recieve for winning your war is a Cube?”

“The Cosmic Cube is one of the few singularities that can work in any dimension, even here. I don’t even have to know you to know that you’re coveting it. How else would you get your hands on it?” He shrugged. “Take it or leave it.”

“May I have time to decide?”

Clint settled further into the chair. “Sure. But don’t take too long. Loki’s wedding is in a few days, and I’ve already been down here for over 24 hours, so I bet he’s panicking.”

Hela stood up and walked back into Hel, the gates creaking behind her. Clint opened up his pocket dimension and tossed the journal in, and then reached in and pulled out a blanket. He wrapped it around himself, closed the dimension, and closed his eyes. A nap wouldn’t hurt.

Loki met him in his dreams. _I should strangle you,_ he remarked softly, running his fingers over Clint’s face. Clint leaned into his touch. _What did she say?_

_I think she’s gonna go for it. I’m assuming you told everyone?_

_Of course. Valkyrie is going into hiding under a ward I created to keep her shielded from Hela’s gaze._

_I don’t think Hela is gonna do anything to her, I think she just...likes her._

_Poor at showing it, then._

_Must run in the family._

Loki rolled his eyes. _How much longer? I marry in five days._

_What’s Steve saying about all this?_

Loki sighed and stepped away, conjuring up a chair and relaxing into it. Clint settled on the floor at his feet, and with a wave of Loki’s fingers, they were sitting on the Bifrost, Clint’s feet dangling over the edge, the two of them looking out over the stars. _He is...displeased. Not only that our seclusion was broken but also that you are in danger. He also feels frustrated that we are stalled in readying our defenses against Thanos._

Clint frowned up at him. _I just spent however many weeks in past time loops and he thinks we’re stalled? Just because_ he’s _in seclusion doesn’t mean everyone else is._ He rolled his eyes. _We’ll kick him back into shape once you two are married. Hey, did you ask him about a honeymoon?_

_Hmmm. No. I will ask him once I wake._

_Where does Laura think I am?_

_I told her that you were busy helping me and gave her an extra $10,000 for the stress._

Clint grinned at that. _What’d she say?_

_‘That’s it?’_ Loki rolled his eyes. _So I gave her another $10,000._

Clint leaned his head back and laughed. _God, I love that woman. You know she was conning you, right?_

_Of course,_ Loki replied stiffly. _I considered giving her more but did not wish to reward such poor behavior._

_You really have no concept of money, huh?_

Loki shrugged. _I have no interest in it. If it makes her life, and your children’s lives, easier, then I will give her as much as she needs._

Clint propped his chin on Loki’s knee. _You really love them._

_I love you, which means I take care of those important to you._

Clint rubbed the back of his neck. _Geez, boss._

They both fell into silence, watching the stars move in the distance, and Clint blinked, and he was back in front of the gates of Hel. He yawned and stretched, tried to work the kinks out of his back. It’d gotten colder, but he’d been expecting that, and he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and curled up again. He sat for awhile, kind of zoning out, and then got up and stretched. He pulled his Aesir bow and quiver out and jogged back to before where the path started to change, and began loosing arrows at the gates. He tried to get a few of them over the wall, but his arrows just fell back down after hitting the side. There was no getting in or out of Hel, arrow or otherwise. Unless it was Loki, of course.

He was gathering up his arrows when the gates began to open. Clint finished getting his arrows and was examining one bent tip when Hela finally stepped through, a stern look on her face.

“So?” Clint asked. “We got a deal?”

“No deal,” Hela announced, and Clint’s mouth fell open. “Either you give me Brunnhilde or my armies stay in Hel.”

“No Cube?”

“No Cube,” Hela confirmed, and when Clint didn’t say anything, she turned back into Hel, the gates shutting behind her.

“Fuck! Damn it!” Clint yelled, and threw the bent arrow to the floor. He’d really thought she’d take the deal. Fuck. He picked up the arrow and threw it again. “Hela!” he yelled. “What the fuck!? Come back! We need to talk!”

It took awhile, long enough that Clint was going to set up camp again outside the gates and wait her out, but eventually, the gates opened. Fenrir came out first, but Clint regularly dealt with Loki, so a big wolf was nothing to him. Then Hela, looking like she’d sucked on a lemon.

“You are causing unrest,” she bit out, looking down her nose at him. Fenrir prowled a circle around him, but Clint ignored the big bastard. “There is no deal to be brokered here, human.”

“I’m not human,” Clint snarked back. “There has to be _something_ you want besides her.”

Black eyes pinned him in place and Hela stepped out, her form shimmering into something bigger, something _horrible,_ and Clint almost flinched back, but then he grit his teeth and lifted his chin and glared at her. Hela smiled at him, blood on her teeth. “Either Loki gives me you,” she said finally, “or the Valkyrie lays down her life. I could ask her to take her own, but all I ask is that she dies. I’ll even give you the option of her exchanging her soul for the Stone. All I need is the body, after all.”

Clint grimaced. Gross. She turned back to Hel and Fenrir pushed his snout into the back of Clint’s head, gave him a deep sniff, and then followed Hela, the gates slowly shutting behind them. Clint crumpled to the ground and put his head in his hands. He couldn’t choose. If it was just him, if he didn’t have a family, if he didn’t have _Loki_, he’d lay down his life without thinking about it. Hell, he was already halfway convinced to do it. But he couldn’t...he couldn’t.

Carefully, Clint pushed to his feet, and gathered his arrows and his bow and his blanket and shoved them all in his pocket dimension, and then he set off along the path, every step taking him further from Hel. 

He didn’t pay attention to any of the horrors going on around him. His dad threatening to deafen him again for crying out while being hit was nothing compared to the thought of having to make an impossible decision. What it really boiled down to was that he couldn’t make Loki give him up. He couldn’t. He’d lay down his life in a second if it wasn’t for Loki. Laura and the kids would manage. His friends would be fine. Loki would...he would not be fine. Loki wouldn’t survive it.

That’s what it boiled down to, really. If push came to shove, Loki was more important to him than his own life. Loki was more important than anyone else. He couldn’t.

He stepped out onto the Bifrost and pulled out the Tesseract.

“Clint!” Heimdall called, and Clint turned to look at him. “You shouldn’t have looked back.”

Clint frowned and then looked around, seeing the path on the ground. The Bifrost around him shattered and fell apart, and Heimdall’s face chipped away to reveal Hela’s underneath.

“I always get what I want,” she purred, and reached for him.

“Is that so?” he replied, and stepped off the path.

* * *

Loki was brewing a potion in his rooms at Clint’s house when Clint appeared next to him. _How did you fare?_ Loki asked, not looking up. Clint stumbled and crumpled to his knees. Loki jerked to his feet and caught Clint in his arms before his face could smash into the floor. _What did she do to you?_ Loki hissed, _I will rend the flesh from her bones, I will—_

_Shut up,_ Clint told him, sounding exhausted, and he pressed his face into Loki’s neck. _I hate her. I fucking hate her._

_Did she harm you?_

Clint took in a deep breath and shook his head. _No. She’s just horrible._ He twisted his hands into Loki’s tunic and held on tight. _No deal. She said it’s either me or Valkyrie for the army._

Loki snarled and Clint jerked, heart pounding in his chest. _She will not take you._

_Yeah, boss, I know. I basically told her to fuck off. I just...she wasn’t happy. She tricked me with Heimdall and then...I don’t know if it was other realities or just my nightmares or whatever, but she showed me...it doesn’t matter. It just really sucked._

_Hush, pet,_ Loki murmured, and he pulled Clint into his arms as he pushed to his feet. _Let Loki take care of you. I won’t let anything happen to you._

Clint pushed his face into the god’s chest. _I told her she couldn’t have me,_ he said softly. _I told her she couldn’t take me from you._

Loki laid him down on the bed and quickly undressed him, pulling the furs up and over him. _No one will,_ Loki swore. _Now hush. Rest. You are safe._

Clint peeked an eye open. _Promise?_

_None will harm you here_. Loki brushed his fingers over Clint’s forehead, soothed him into rest. Loki watched him sleep for a few minutes and then slid off the bed and turned his attention back to his potion. Next to the caldron, Thor’s soul stood, watching him with a faintly judgemental look on his face. Loki smirked at him.

“Do you see where you went wrong?” Loki asked him softly, picking up a golden stirring rod. “Do you see how you could have done different?”

Thor merely looked at him. Loki continued to smile.

“How much did you regret killing me that last time?” Loki asked, knowing he would not receive an answer. “You worked for that long to have me and you finally achieved it. It must be spectacularly painful to watch me now, knowing I am this Loki despite you. Or, more specifically, because I killed you.”

Thor’s soul said nothing.

Loki turned his attention back to the potion, stirring it one last time.

“Well?” he said to the soul. “Get in.”

Thor looked at him one last time and then climbed into the cauldron, and almost immediately, the potion was sucked up into his soul, and Loki tossed in an extra bit of seidr, and then, suddenly, there was a small pearlescent stone at the bottom of the caldron. Loki waited for it to cool and then picked it up, holding it up to the light. He so loved turning something as vast and momentous as a soul into something so small and manageable. 

Loki turned his attention back to the bed and watched Clint sleep. He could wait. He slid the stone back into the green vial and corked it, then left it on the table as he cleaned up the caldron and the fire underneath it, and after he was done, Loki moved over to the bookshelf and perused it, finally pulling out a small tome about spells. He glanced through the window and looked out over the Bifrost and the great waters, and then slipped onto the bed, holding the book in his hand as he paged through it. Clint slumbered next to him, leaning over to push his face into Loki’s side.

Loki gently pet his hair as he read. Awhile later, Steve pushed open the bedroom door and walked in. Tension slid out of his shoulders once he saw Clint. “Is he okay?” Steve asked softly, brushing a kiss against Loki’s cheek as he walked past him to the bathroom. 

“He is tired,” Loki replied, closing his book and setting it aside. He smiled to himself and leaned back against the headboard. “We marry tomorrow.”

“I know,” Steve said as he came out of the bathroom, carrying a set of sleeping clothes. “Are you ready?”

“I did not believe the day would ever come,” Loki admitted softly, and he smiled and looked at Steve through his lashes. “I am very pleased it is with you.”

Steve stepped up next to the bed and smiled at him. He pushed Loki’s hair out of his face and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured against Loki’s mouth. “Tell Clint I’m glad he’s okay.”

“Clint says thanks,” Clint grumbled, and he blearily opened an eye, shooting Steve a tired smile. “What, no kiss for me?”

“You’ll get one when you deserve it,” Steve teased, and he gave Loki another kiss for good luck.

“I like those odds,” Clint mumbled and then went back to sleep.

“See you tomorrow,” Loki called after Steve as the door shut. He pressed his fingers to his mouth and smiled. He’d waited this long; what was one more day?

**Author's Note:**

> guess what's next!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> i just want to say thank you to everyone that's stuck with me through this series. thank you so much for reading, please leave kudos and comments
> 
> follow me:  
tumblr: @deluxemycroft  
twitter: @whenhedied


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